Descent into Insanity
by Kenshul
Summary: The continutation of Insanity's Fear! A month after the events surrounding Cassie everything seems to be quietly returning to normal, save for Dr. Lewis. Shaken by what happened he tries to put the incident behind him, just as it threatens him once again.
1. Ch 1

_Descent into Insanity_

_Chapter One_

He watched as the brownish liquid made its way from bottle to glass, splashing as it fell downward towards the earth. Carefully he poured just enough to fill the glass halfway before placing the bottle aside. Taking the glass in his right hand he brought it up to his face for a moment and simply stared at it. As he stared he wondered if it was such a good idea to have another sip of the alcohol, lest he might tumble back into the abuse of the stuff he had gotten over so many years ago. Then the horrible scene flashed itself in his mind again and without realizing what he was doing he could already feel the burning liquid pass over his tongue and down his throat.

A month had passed since that day when the scene had been burned into his mind, that horrible scene that seemed to haunt him throughout both the day and night. In all the time that had passed, and in all the thought he had given to it, he still couldn't find logic in what had happened. She was shut tight in her room under lock and key. How could anything have happened to her, especially what did in fact happen to her? With a shudder Dr. Lewis once again tried to push the image of Cassie's dead and terrified face out of his mind, and once again he failed.

Sitting forward he thought about the private hell that he had been forced through since the day when Cassie had mysteriously died. Tough days had followed Dr. Lewis as everyone turned to him for answers as to what could have possibly happened to the girl. All he could say with terror masked just behind his eyes was that he didn't know. He wasn't the only one being questioned though.

In the wake of her death the whole of Brookhaven had suddenly come under intense scrutiny by both the local law enforcement and by the town's media. An unexplainable death, especially one as gruesome as what Cassie had faced, seemed to act as an irresistible bait in bringing an entire swarm of cameras and reporters to Brookhaven. With thoughts about the seemingly endless questions that had been posed he suddenly looked ahead and saw the newspaper article about the incident that was still tacked to the wall.

__

_Unexplainable Death Claims Life of Brookhaven Resident_

_Written by Marcus Fayne_

_Death became the latest resident of Silent Hill's Brookhaven Hospital, a clinic for the mentally ill. At approximately 2 o'clock this morning one of Brookhaven's patients, identified only by the name of Cassie, was found brutally murdered in her small room. Reports state that the girl appeared as though she had been skewered to death. Onlookers went on to describe the scene as 'horrifying' and 'gruesome'._

"_It has to be the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life," said one of the attending nurses. "That poor girl, to die in such a way is inhumane."_

_While this reporter was denied access to view the body the picture painted in the mind by accounts makes this reporter feel glad that he didn't have to witness it. Neither head officer on the scene John Simmons or Cassie's personal psychologist Dr. Terry Lewis chose to make a statement about what happened._

After downing the last remaining drops of alcohol from his glass Lewis stretched for a moment and laid back into the leather chair that had found its way into the doctor's lounge. Closing his eyes he tried to picture Cassie's last minutes alive, screaming for help and having those screams ignored by the guard. Despite the gruesome scene that played over and over in his mind he began to doze off. Everything that had happened in the past month had drained him so much physically as well as mentally that it seemed he would slip into unconsciousness any free chance that he got. Slowly his mind wandered away, only to have it quickly forced back on him as a knock came from the door.

Startled from near unconsciousness and half dazed Lewis suddenly shot forward in the chair, looking terrified for a moment as he looked to where the noise emanated from. Staring at the door his mind slowly untangled its way out of the jumble of thoughts and images it was slipping into moments before. It took yet another moment before he connected what was going on and got up to open the door. When he did so he found the young form of his assistant standing there looking a little concerned. "What is it Leslie?" he asked of her.

"There's a phone call for you Dr. Lewis."

"Oh is that all?" he asked with not even the slightest hint of interest in his voice. With his mind not quite back to reality he stood there blank faced for a moment and just stared at the blonde haired girl that stood before him.

"Dr Lewis?" she asked, wondering exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah I better answer that shouldn't I?" he barely muttered to no one in particular.

"That would be a good idea," Leslie said matter-of-factly. For a moment Dr. Lewis still stood there like some sort of soulless statue as he looked at his young assistant. She looked back at him with feelings of both being creeped out and confused. "Right this way Dr. Lewis," she gestured down the hallway, hoping to focus his mind back onto the phone call and away from wherever it had wandered off too.

"Of course," he said with a slight shake of his head as his mind came back to him.

As Leslie walked down the hallway Dr. Lewis followed her, wondering who might be calling him. He hoped that it wasn't another one of those damned reporters again. How many times did they have to hear the phrase _'I don't know' _before they believed him? Just because he was Cassie's psychologist didn't mean he had some foresight into how she died. Couldn't they stop for a moment and realize that? There was absolutely no reason to believe that he knew how she died, and frankly he didn't want to know.

Making their way around a corner the two found themselves in the hospital's main entryway. Being just in the afternoon the small foyer should have been crowded with the hospital's staff, as well as anyone who might want to visit one of Brookhaven's patients. Instead though it was eerily quiet. It had been that way ever since the fateful night when Cassie's life had been taken. Evidently no one felt safe any longer within the confines of Brookhaven's concrete walls. To this Lewis could do nothing but silently agree.

Having finally arrived at the reception office Leslie walked through the open door and made her way back to her desk. Once Lewis had come in as well she casually pointed to a phone that was lying off the hook before she went about to some sort of work.

Slowly Dr. Lewis took the receiver in his hand and held it just away from his face as for one last moment he wondered who was on the other end. It seemed that even a common thing like a phone call was enough to cause tension and wary to course through his being. When he brought the receiver to his ear he carefully wetted his lips before saying anything. "This is Dr. Lewis," he said trying to cover any sign of emotion in his voice.

"Dr. Lewis? Yes, this is Officer Simmons down here at Silent Hill Police Department. I was just wondering if you had any openings at Brookhaven. We picked up another nut the other day and the chief wants him out of here soon as possible."

At hearing officer Simmons voice Dr. Lewis didn't know whether to let himself relax or to be even more distressed. He was glad that the voice belonged to someone he knew and someone that seemed to have remained grounded throughout everything, yet it was also the voice of someone he had a personal dislike of. "What's the patients condition?" Lewis asked going over the bases.

"Now doc, you're the one who gets paid the big dollars to figure that out, not me." Whether Simmons intended that to be a joke or not Lewis didn't find it funny at all. A cold silence from Lewis told Simmons exactly what he thought of the statement. "Okay, nothing to get bent out of shape about," the officer said before he began to rifle through a few papers. "Here it is. The guy's a shopkeeper that was picked up after brutally bludgeoning some tourist. Said he saw a monster or something like that."

At the word monster a memory suddenly flashed through Lewis' mind. In that memory the pale and fragile Cassie sat before him telling him of the Red Demon. He shook himself free of the memory as his mind reassured him that people saw monsters all the time, and that there was no reason to believe the instance between this man and Cassie could be in any way related. For some reason though deep in the pit of his being he couldn't help but to wonder if there was.

"So do you got a vacancy there, doc?" Officer Simmons suddenly asked, breaking into Lewis' thoughts.

"Yeah," Lewis muttered as his mind came back to the conversation. "Yeah we still haven't filled room S3 yet with anyone."

"Room S3?" Simmons asked with hesitation. "Isn't that the room where you had that girl last month?"

A scream rang out through Lewis' skull as he closed the door behind him. It was followed by a thump as Cassie threw herself against the metal door, pleading that she would die if he didn't let her out. "Yeah it is." Lewis said in answer to the officer's question. "Until recently we haven't gotten any new patients, and no one wants to be locked in that room anyway."

"Can't say that I blame them on that point, but it won't matter much to anyone where you stuff this nut job. That's the only place you got open though?"

With the receiver still in his hand Dr. Lewis walked over to a dry erase board that had a list of every patient room in the hospital and who was occupying it. After scrutinizing it for a moment he saw that S3 was indeed the only room without a patient. "Yeah, that's the only available room."

"Ah well, don't make a bit of difference in my book. This nut here probably didn't even hear about that girl. If he did, well either way that's where he's going to be."

"That's where he's going to be," Lewis quietly repeated as his mind wandered back to the scene of finding Cassie's dead body. Since that night he had done his best to avoid going near room S3. He pitied the man who would become its new resident.

"Well we still have to run him through a few checks and file a couple more long reports on the matter before he'll be ready to be locked up over there. I'll bring him by in a day or so once the matter's been all taken care of. That alright with you doc?"

"What? Oh yeah, that's fine. I'll make sure that the room is all ready then for when you bring him in."

"Alright then doc. I'll be seeing you in a couple of days." With that followed a soft click as Simmons hung up the phone.

As Lewis let his arm slowly fall to place the phone's receiver back he stared ahead at Leslie, and yet at the same moment he stared at nothing at all. The young assistant quickly picked up on the pair of eyes that were focused on her. "What did Officer Simmons want?" she asked thinking that the conversation between the police officer and the doctor might be important in some way to her.

"Oh, he just wanted to see if we had a room open. I guess they picked up someone new that they feel deserves a stay here." Lewis paused for a moment and watched as Leslie's eyes moved to the dry erase board and noticed that only one room remained open. She swallowed slightly as she knew what was coming next. "See to it that someone cleans out room S3. It needs to be ready when Officer Simmons bring in our latest patient."

"Yes, of course Dr. Lewis." At the mere mention of the room which had witnessed Cassie's final moments Leslie could feel a shiver run down her spine. As the shiver passed she looked back at Lewis. "Is there anything else you want me to do for you?"

For a moment Lewis stood there in complete silence as his mind picked apart Leslie's question and ran through everything to determine what his answer should be. "No," he said as his mind made one last check of everything. "That's all you can do for me."

With that the young assistant went back to her work, but Dr. Lewis remained still as he stared off into some abyss. Leslie took notice and was about to ask Lewis once again if there was anything he needed, but suddenly he said something.

"I'm going to go back to the doctor's lounge and relax. If there's anyone else that needs my attention tell them I'm busy." he said calmly as he walked out of the room.

Back in the hallway Dr. Lewis felt his being become a little more relaxed as the scene in front of him was more typical of what Brookhaven should be. Walking down a hallway that almost glowed in the fluorescent lighting he passed by two nurses that were spreading the latest gossip. Around the corner Lewis nearly stumbled into another doctor by the name of Brennerd. The two exchanged a quick greeting before heading off in opposite directions. When he reached the door to the doctor's lounge he felt the last of the tension from Simmons' call melt away.

Carefully he shut the door behind him and stood there for a moment, almost as if he were expecting Cassie to slam into it like she did with the door of her own room. The thought became silly to him as he shook his head and reminded himself that Cassie was dead.

It wasn't even a moment after he had entered the room did Lewis ease back down into the leather chair. During the day it seemed as though the only moment of peace he could find were in the small respites where he sat in this chair. Leaning back he closed his eyes and left his mind to wander off.

"_The Red Demon? Who is that?" he asked as he stared at the pale and fragile girl that sat before him.  
_

"_He is the judge of the accused, the bringer of atonement, and the slayer of the damned." she responded in a nonchalant matter that seemed to defy the situation._

"Oh Cassie," Dr. Lewis quietly muttered to himself. "What really happened to you that night after I left? Could it really have been this Red Demon that you mentioned that killed you?" Even as he asked the question a voice somewhere in his mind screamed that it was impossible for that to be true. After all, demons are only a creation of a person's mind, aren't they?

Lewis suddenly jumped in his chair as a series of quick raps came from the lounge's door. As he sat up he cursed to himself at his assistant for bothering him once more. "Leslie, I thought I told you..." he began as he turned to look at the door. His words stopped though as he saw a small slip of paper slide in from under the door.

With nervous curiosity he got up from the leather chair and made his way over to the door. Bending over, he picked up the white slip of paper and examined it for a moment before he unfolded it and read what it contained. A confused terror came over the doctor as he read what was written on the note and suddenly he threw open the door, desperate to see who it was who had written the message. To his disappointment the hallway was deserted.

Once he made sure that there was no one that might tell him who had written the note he stopped in his search and looked down on the note again to make sure he had not misread it. He didn't even get past the first word before he knew there was no way he could have. On the slip of paper, written in what looked like red ink, was a barely legible message that had been scrawled out. Its poor spelling didn't help to make it any less harder to read. Though he knew what it said he couldn't help but to read it over once more:

_i no wat hapend 2 the gurl. he wil cumm 4 u soon._


	2. Ch 2

_Chapter Two_

The air was cold. This was Dr. Lewis' first thought as he entered the hospital's day room. It seemed as though one of the higher ups had once again decided that they needed to have the air condition turned up just high enough to make everyone's day a little more miserable. Or was he just imagining the cold? After all, he hadn't felt cold until he opened the door to the day room. Either way he just shrugged the thought away as he made his way to the wall opposite him.

Set aside the wall was a small table where several snack and beverage items had been placed. Seeing as how the hospital's cafeteria was rather small a second place was needed to store whatever wasn't considered to be part of the day's normal meal. What better place to serve than any of the hospital's three day rooms? After all, weren't they built to serve any need the resident doctors might come up with? Filled with lunchroom-style tables it acted as both a second cafeteria and a place where doctors as well as visitors could spend time with some of the hospital's more well off patients.

As Lewis made his way to the table his attention immediately rested on the small black coffee maker that was noisily brewing the day's second batch of coffee. With it being just past ten 'o clock in the morning the first batch was well on its way to digestion by now. Usually he was one of the first ones to arrive at Brookhaven and pour a cup of the steaming liquid, but today he would settle for some of the second batch.

Once he had filled a large cup with coffee Lewis made his way to one of the nearby tables with a stack of files. As he eased into one of the chairs he noticed that the room was empty save for two women sitting at the opposite end of the room. The younger of the pair was dressed in a white blouse and pants that were the color of a pastel green. One of the nurses whose name Lewis couldn't recall at the moment.

The other woman was an older woman, probably just entering her eighties. She, Lewis knew, was another of Brookhaven's patients. Unlike most of the people that stayed at Brookhaven she wasn't so much a threat. The reason for her admittance was caused by a breakdown after her husband had passed away. Lewis let out a sigh as he remembered her case. She was an old woman suffering the loss of the man she had spent the past sixty years of life with. Was it not to be expected that some emotional distress would come from her? Was Brookhaven really the place the store someone like that? Had the thought of a nursing home held less appeal to the women's children when deciding what to do with her? Whatever the cause was for her being brought to Brookhaven the hospital's administrators were always eager for another patient; or paycheck rather. Despite his belief that Brookhaven was the wrong place for the woman they had found a nice comfortable room in the C block of the first floor. There she would live out the rest of her days surrounded by those just barely out of sanity's grasp.

At that moment his mind drifted back to the thought of Cassie. What a contrast she was to the old woman who quietly sat with her attending nurse. Cassie had seemed so young and so fragile, yet so strong. Lewis had really hoped that he would be able to help the girl as he always hated to see such a waste come from society's young generations. He and his wife had no children of their own and as a result he always tried to do whatever he could to help young and struggling adults. Being one of the youngest patients that Lewis had ever been asked to treat he had challenged himself to help the girl overcome whatever was disturbing her. Sadly though he had only been given that one opportunity before her life had mysteriously been taken.

Though Lewis stared ahead with his eyes his mind had been staring off somewhere else. The young nurse though had seen him and taken his stare to be aimed at her. As he brought himself back to reality he found himself startled as the nurse gazed back at him from across the room. She flashed a smile at him and he could only nod his head in acknowledgment before quickly burying his attention into the files on the table in front of him. He did his best to hide the redness that he felt was surely coming to his face and to appear busy at work. Since Cassie's death he felt uncomfortable while at work and more so of those that worked around him. Plus the fact that he was a married man in his late forties being suddenly given the attention of an attractive young woman did nothing to help him. _"Best to appear busy," _he quietly said to himself.

As he looked through the files that Leslie had given him upon his arrival he noticed that he only had two patients to visit today. Reading their names he let out a sigh of relief as he noticed that neither were of the more unstable variety that Cassie had fallen under. The first patient that he was to check on was a man named Wilson, who had fallen under the medium risk category and been placed in one of the rooms in M block. The other was a woman by the name of Dana who, like the old woman, been deemed a low risk and had been placed in a C block room. Looking down at his watch he saw that more time had slipped past then he thought and he decided to not put off his work any longer. Downing the last of his coffee he gathered up the papers and neatly put them back in their manilla folder. As he left the day room he couldn't help but to take one last look at the young nurse before exiting the room.

As he walked down the hallway he could hear voices and a string of other noises as the hospital came to life in the passing moments between morning and midday. While everyone on the first shift was supposed to be there at eight each morning, rarely did anyone actually make that deadline. Even then none of them did any actual work for several hours, aside from the nurses who were constantly busy with this and that. The noises signaled that the day's pattern was beginning to be set and that soon everyone in the hospital would be fully involved in something.

When he reached the elevator he stepped inside the empty box before tapping the button that would take him up to the hospital's second floor. In the moments that passed he tried to keep his mind busy with any thought he could summon, fearing that if he didn't keep his mind busy it would slip back to thoughts of Cassie. Instead it fell on the matter of his latest horror; the note.

Who could have written it? This was the latest question that plagued his mind. When he opened the door there was no sign of who had written the poorly spelled note. Was the note meant as some cruel joke or was there something more to it? Both these questions Lewis desperately wanted answered, but he knew those answers would have to wait as the elevator's doors opened onto the second floor.

Making his way past the nurse's station and the locker rooms Lewis found a pair of double doors that separated the doctor's wing from the patient's wing. Stepping through them he immediately noticed how the near silence he had enjoyed in the elevator changed into a muffled panic. The patients on this floor were a little more unbalanced then those on the first floor, and therefore a little more prone to shouts of delirium, though they were nowhere near as bad as those locked up on the third floor's S block. Having grown used to such noises he just pushed them aside until he reached the room at the end of the hallway labeled "M6". Slowly he reached for the door's handle, pausing for a moment and putting everything except the awaiting patient out of his mind, before entering the room.

Light bathed in from the room's window and cast its rays on a pale man with wild red hair. Sitting on one of the room's two beds he looked out the window as though he were intent on finding something. Oblivious to Dr. Lewis he sat completely still until hearing the door to his room close.

The moment Lewis closed the door the man leapt from where he sat and spun quickly to face the doctor. Upon seeing Lewis the man quickly snapped his right hand up in salute. "PFC Wilson Ashter reporting, sir!" he crisply said.

"Sit down Wilson," Lewis calmly said as he took a seat opposite the bed. When Wilson did nothing but stand there in salute Lewis gave a sigh before saying, "At ease solider."

With the command Wilson let his hand drop from salute and sat back down on the bed across from Lewis. Standing tall and rigid he tried his best to appear as at attention as possible. His eyes focused intently on Lewis as he awaited what the doctor might have to say.

As Lewis looked back at the middle aged Wilson he wondered exactly what he should say. _"Always start with the basics,"_ he told himself. "How are you doing Wilson?" he asked of the patient.

"Doing just fine sir. The nurses have been taking real good care of me." Wilson said in what seemed to be a calm matter. There was something though in his eyes that hinted at apprehension over something.

"What is it Wilson?" Lewis asked as he picked up the ill feelings that Wilson was trying to hide.

"Well sir, I've been shut up in this hospital for some time now and I can't get a clear answer from any of the nurses." Slowly Wilson's posture relaxed and he leaned forward a little, though his gaze never left Lewis. "They won't tell me what happened to my platoon, sir. One minute I'm on the beaches of Normandy getting shot at and the next moment I'm here in this hospital. I just want to know if anyone else from my platoon made it out alive."

Raising his hand to his forehead Lewis gave a small sigh as he looked at the man. "Wilson, we've been over this. You never went to Normandy. There was no platoon that you fought in."

"But sir!" Wilson shouted at Lewis. "I remember clearly our orders. Came straight from Roosevelt they did. And I remember the boat ride to the beach. It was our glorious invasion of Europe, the first great step to taking down the Nazis."

"Wilson this isn't World War II. We haven't been at war with the Nazis in nearly sixty years. It's just a delusion your mind has come up with."

"But I was there! The Nazis were flanking us on all sides! My buddy....Frank....he got shot just below the waist. I wanted to go back for him but our orders were to keep pressing forward."

"Wilson listen to me," Lewis said, trying to get through to the man. "Try and remember who you were before you came to the hospital. Try to remember the man you were and the things you did."

"I'm trying to," Wilson said as he brought a fist up to rest on his temple as he winced in pain, "but I can't remember anything from before the beach. There were explosions all around me.....people screaming....had to keep pressing the advantage. There was a bright flash....a mortar round....just to the left of me."

Cautiously Lewis placed a hand on Wilson's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "Wilson, the war's over. It was over twenty years before you were even born. There's no way you could have fought in it."

Wilson stopped in his movements for a moment and became very still. For a moment Lewis had thought that his attempt to calm the man down had worked. He was wrong.

"No!" Wilson suddenly shouted as he pushed Lewis' hand away. The force of the push was enough that it nearly knocked Lewis out of his chair. Free of the doctor's grip Wilson scrambled towards the corner of the room and brought his knees up to his chest. There he chose to huddle as his fist remained at his temple and his face remained in a look of pain.

As Lewis watched the man curl up in the room's corner he sank back and thought about how weary he had grown of his job. Dealing with insanity on a daily basis had begun to take its toll on him. Despite that weariness he still wanted to help Wilson to come back to some level of sanity, as he wanted for all his patients. Some days though it just didn't seem worth it. "I'll have the nurse bring you something," he said as he rose out of the chair and headed for the door. Wilson gave no response and Lewis couldn't help but to look at the grown man and shake his head for a moment in pity as he exited the room.

With one of his two patients out of the way Lewis took in a deep breath as he made his way towards the elevator. He knew that his next patient would be a lot easier to handle, and for that he was glad. Ever since his encounter with Cassie, Lewis had come to almost fear some of the more disturbed patients that had been locked up at Brookhaven. It wasn't so much that he couldn't handle people in a condition like Cassie's or Wilson's, no his years of training had prepared him for such cases, but it just didn't seem like his heart was in it anymore. A sort of ambition within him died that night along with Cassie and were it not for his overwhelming desire to help cure the people at Brookhaven he might have quit the profession all together. That would have seemed like a waste though for him to have spent so much time and hard work to get to this point only to walk away, he wouldn't allow it. "Course they never taught us what to do when one of your patients mysteriously gets skewered," he quietly said to himself. He would have laughed at that moment but then realized that he was talking to himself and decided to remain silent for the rest of the elevator trip in an effort to keep what little sanity he had left.

Once the elevator reached the first floor it came to a stop before its doors screeched open. The noise, but not Lewis might have bothered anyone else. He, along with everyone else that worked at Brookhaven, had grown used to such things as the hospital's maintenance staff hardly ever kept anything working the way it should. That plus the fact that Lewis had become so wrapped up in his thoughts that at the moment very little would bother him at all.

When Lewis reached Dana's room he calmed any of the ill feelings he had after his visit with Wilson. The woman behind the door was sensitive to how people acted and though she had never been prone to violent outbursts Lewis didn't feel like taking a chance. After taking a deep breath he smoothed his white doctor's coat and did his best to smile, which ended up taking a real effort.

Inside the room Lewis found Dana sitting on one of the beds gently stroking the hair of a doll. While the woman was in her early thirties she had the personality of a five year old. She had never gone off on some insane ranting about monsters, nor had she ever shown a hint of problem behavior. Yet somehow she had still ended up here at Brookhaven. _"Just another body to help add a zero onto our funding." _ Lewis thought to himself. "Dana," he said in a gentle voice as he approached the woman, "how are you doing today?"

"Oh Doctor Lewis," she said as she looked up from the doll. "I didn't hear you come in. You scared me."

"I'm sorry about that Dana."

"Its okay doctor. You didn't scare me that much." Dana sat up and stuck out her bottom lip to try and show how tough she really was.

"Well how are you doing, Dana?" Lewis asked again as he eased down into a chair.

"I'm okay," she said with a shrug as she turned her attention back to the doll. "I keep asking if I can play outside, but the nurses tell me that's a bad idea."

"They only say that because the don't want you to get hurt." Lewis reassured the woman.

"I know, I know. The world is big and scary, but I'm a big girl. I think I could do it for maybe a little while."

"Well the seasons are starting to change Dana. It's not summer anymore and soon it will be too cold for anyone to go outside."

"Then why don't the nurses let me go? They can come with me if they wanna so I won't get hurt."

"It's just not a good idea Dana."

"But..." Dana started as it looked like tears were beginning to collect in hers eyes.

As Lewis looked at the woman he felt pity. Here she was with her only desire to be able to play outside when others her age spent so much time worrying about bills and relationships, yet that simple desire was still denied. Now as he watched the sadness well up inside of her he felt the need to try and find a way to fix things for her so that she could be happy. He knew though deep down that he couldn't.

Looking around the room he tried to think of something to say that would bring her back to a happy mood. When his eyes fell upon the table set at the bed's edge he saw a chance to talk about something else. "Where did you get that flower?" Lewis asked as he looked back at Dana then once again at the brightly colored flower that had been placed in a small vase on the table.

"Flower?" Dana asked with a look of confusion. She then turned around and saw what Dr. Lewis was referring to. With a simple wipe of her face her tears were gone away with the sad look she had shown. Scrambling across the bed she took the flower carefully in her hands and smiled back at Lewis as she looked at it. "My mamma gave this to me. She said it was to make my room pretty."

"Your mother came for a visit?" Lewis asked hoping to further get into a topic he knew would make Dana happier.

"Yeah, last week." she replied as she stared intently at the flower. "She came and gave me this flower and spent the whole day with me."

"How did that go, Dana?"

"It made me happy to see mamma again. I miss her a lot sometimes. She said she missed me too and loved me, but that I had to stay here. She said I was still too sick to come home."

Looking at the woman Lewis once again felt sorry for her. Dana didn't really understand what was going on or why she was at Brookhaven. For that matter she didn't even really understand what Brookhaven was. She just thought that she was sick with some disease and that the doctors and nurses around her were trying to find some cure for her. Little did she know that her 'disease' wasn't something easily cured, and for her maybe impossible. Though she may not have known what was really going on there was still something that Lewis envied in her. What he envied was the seeming innocence that she carried. The innocence that is born into a child and slowly strangled and murdered by the circumstances of age. Lewis wished he could somehow find a way to have just a small piece of that innocence, but in the wake of something as horrible as Cassie's death he knew that innocence would never again grace his being.

The thought of Cassie pulled his mind away from the sobering innocence Dana portrayed and back to the reality of what was going on. The light from outside told him that time was going by faster than he thought as midday was slowing becoming afternoon. Though he had only been given two patients to visit today he knew that there was a stack of paperwork that needed to be finished before he left for home, and he was looking forward to leaving early. "Well Dana, I have other things I must do," he said to the woman that seemed content to silently cradle the flower given to her by her mother. "If you need anything let the nurses know, alright?"

"Okay doctor," Dana absentmindly said to Lewis. Before leaving he stood at the door for a moment and tried one last attempt to capture some of Dana's innocence for himself. When the attempt turned vain he just sighed before pushing the door open and walking out.

On the way to his office Lewis went over in his head the workload he had to do. There was nothing big, just updating a few files, but the thought of any work related to the hospital around him seemed to take so much from him. He was growing weary of dealing with it all and once again his mind brushed to subject of leaving the profession behind, but he vowed that he was doing exactly what he needed to as he walked down the hallway and found the door to his office.

Once inside he immediately dropped the folders he had been carrying onto his desk and fell backwards into his comfy computer chair. Leaning back he took his rough hands and pushed them through his thinning light-brown strands of hair before having them come to rest on his cheeks. The moment he did so he noticed how rough his face was and remembered that it had been several days since he had last shaved. There were some things in his life that had become so insignificant in the wake of more important things that he had grown to care very little about them. Shaving was high on that list and it almost seemed a chore to get himself to do it.

Without thinking his hand made its way to one of the desk's three drawers and carefully opened it. After it was open halfway his hand felt around inside until it found the smooth glass bottle it was looking for. As his hand placed it on the table he opened his eyes and looked at the brownish liquid that filled just under half of the bottle. He stared at it intently for a moment, deciding what was the best thing to do with the bottle, before he found himself putting the bottle back and carefully shutting the drawer.

Sitting up he looked over the various junk that had collected itself on his desk. The desk's residents consisted mostly of assorted memos and files of importance, but there was one scrap of paper that was different and set apart from the rest. Lewis took this scrap in his hand and slowly read over the barely legible message again. In his mind raced a million questions about the note's sender and what exactly the note meant. He knew that it in some way was connected to Cassie and her death; but how? A sudden urge took hold of him as he wished there was some clue he could go on finding out about the letter. When he pulled back to think for a moment he noticed the stack of work he still had to do and a glance at the room's clock showed that his deadline was drawing nearer and nearer. Feeling defeated he let out a sigh and eased back into the chair. He stared at the note for a moment longer and whispered his determination about finding out the letter's purpose before pushing it to the back of his mind and bringing himself to start on his work.


	3. Ch 3

_Chapter Three_

_Despite further behavior counseling the subject still shows no signs of change. She still seems completely unaware as to her real age or the real situation she is in. From her records it appears that her condition was onset sometime during her teenage years for reasons unknown. Whether it was caused by some sort of emotional or physical trauma is not stated, though it appears that neither had a part in her regression. Though the patient has shown little cause for concern I recommend further hospitalization until a full and proper diagnosis can be made._

Taking in a breath Lewis paused in his typing and read over what he had just typed for any errors there might be. Satisfied, he told the computer to save the latest update to Dana's file before stretching his fingers and resting in his chair.

Not much time had passed since he had come into work that morning and yet he had made additions to fourteen different patient files. While not all of those patients were on his regular duty list, he had been able to help their doctor's with a fresh insight. Sometimes it just helped to have a new pair of eyes take a look at something in order to make sure nothing had been overlooked. While this task had not always been a favorite of his, he was beginning to enjoy it more and more as it seemed to take some of the responsibility, and therefore some of the numbing stress, off of his shoulders.

As he looked over the names of the patient files which still needed his attention Lewis felt grateful that he had not been given any visitations today. He knew that visiting and diagnosing the patients at Brookhaven were the main reasons he had chosen his profession, but sometimes it helped to have a day off from all of that drama; to be given the chance to catch up in the piles of paperwork if for nothing else.

After his visit with Dana the day before Lewis had found it really hard to focus on his work. As such he had gotten very little done before calling it a day and going home. The only problem that anyone else would see is that it meant more work for him the next day, which he had been feverishly working to catch up as he didn't want to waste the free time given to him by the hospital's administrators. There was another problem though that had burrowed itself deep into his mind and refused to let go. Thoughts of Cassie still plagued his mind.

As Lewis thought about it in that instant it almost seemed crazy that he hadn't been able to bring some resolution to the matter. It had been over a month since Cassie's death and yet the whole thing haunted him as though it had happened only yesterday. _"Everyone else seems to have put the matter aside," _he thought to himself. Though deep in his being he knew that wasn't totally true. His conversation with both his assistant and Officer Simmons the other day had proven that fact.

Though he knew that they still held some reservations about what had happened with Cassie they couldn't nearly be as plagued about the matter as he was, could they? Of course he didn't even really know how much of himself had been consumed by the matter. He had thought himself well on the way to being able to put the incident behind him and move on, that is until he had received the mysterious note. The ominous presence of the note seemed as though it had torn down any walls Lewis had put up to shield himself away from the horrifying memory of Cassie. Now it all rushed back into his mind in an attempt to push him even further away from sanity's edge.

Leaning back, he stared up at the ceiling and the glow of the fluorescent light. His mind began to wander back down the familiar path that ended in the image of Cassie's terrified corpse being played over and over before he suddenly shook the images away. In times like these it was always important to keep one's mind busy on any task one could find. Keeping his mind busy on anything, no matter how small or insignificant, was becoming the only comfort that Lewis could find to keep the threat of the nightmare at bay.

Bringing his gaze away from the ceiling he stared at the list of files he still had to make additions to. The number was close to two-dozen, but for some reason it seemed like there were quite a bit more. As he read over the names to himself they suddenly began to blur and mix together and his eyes began to water as a sharp pain came to them. In response he closed his eyes and winced for a moment, not opening them again until several seconds had passed. When he did open them he looked at his computer monitor and the list that was displayed. "Time for a break," he said to himself before getting up from the chair and walking out of his office.

As he walked down the hallway Lewis set his focus on getting something to eat. It was well past noon and having been shut in his office all morning Lewis was ready for a well-deserved meal. Taking the elevator down to the first floor he made his way to the cafeteria in eager anticipation of whatever was offered.

The cafeteria itself was a small room. Only two or three people could come and pick out a meal without anyone feeling cramped. Its space had been lessened even more so by the large serving area where all the food had been placed. "What do we have to eat today?" Lewis asked as he spotted one of Brookhaven's two cooks as she worked behind the serving area.

"Well for lunch we have roast beef on rye." the kindly older woman said with a smile.

"Roast beef? That sounds like just what I could use." Taking a look over the sandwiches on display for a moment Lewis finally saw one that looked appetizing enough and reached for it. The moment he touched it his hand quickly recoiled and he looked at it for a moment to make sure he hadn't just imagined what he felt. After another touch he knew what was wrong; the bread had gone stale. "What's with the bread?" he asked of the older woman.

"Oh just the supply truck is late in coming. I've asked if we could just buy straight from one of the markets in town, but of course the administrators don't think that food's best for the patients. Has to be all calorie counted or some nonsense like that."

"Well," Lewis said as he looked at the woman then at the food displayed before him, "do you have anything else I can eat?"

"There's plenty to eat," the woman said as she began to go back to whatever task Lewis had interrupted, "but nothing any fresher."

With reluctance Lewis took another look at the roast beef. Maybe if he just ate the meat then it would be enough to stave off his hunger until he could go home. As he looked at the beef though he suddenly realized how gray it looked and suddenly his lunch order was made up. "Thanks anyway," he said to the cook before exiting the cafeteria.

Walking across the hall to the first floor's day room his stomach chose to remind him that he hadn't eaten anything all day. With a shrug he told his stomach to be patient and that it was better off for the moment empty. Instead of trying to force down an obviously spoiled sandwich Lewis decided to go on his standby diet as he made his way over to the black coffee maker. Once he poured himself a cup of the steaming liquid and had put enough sugar in it to his liking he looked around the room and found an empty table to sit at.

For being lunchtime there were a surprisingly few number of people in the room. From what Lewis could see there were only four other people. Two nurses sat towards the middle of the room absorbed in a lively conversation as they picked at a salad whose lettuce was just shy of wilted. Towards the door he saw Dr. Hunt, one of Brookhaven's few female doctors. She appeared to be busy reading over some files as she slowly sipped away at her own cup of coffee. Lastly he noticed Brookhaven's janitor huddled in one corner apparently trying to enjoy a break as he braved a roast beef sandwich. The man was one of those eastern European types that one had a hard time remembering how to pronounce their name and always had come to the U.S. through way of fleeing their own nation. He imagined the roast beef was something more to what the man had been used to, but he pushed the thought away and almost immediately felt bad for having it.

Sipping on his cup of coffee Lewis' mind began to wander away. For the first time in the past month it didn't go to dwell on thoughts of Cassie, nor did it dwell on the mysterious note. Instead it rested on some of his patients and his career choice. Not all of his patients were as violent and disturbed as Cassie had been. No, in fact more of them were closer to what Dana was like than anything else. At one point he had enjoyed the challenge of playing psychologist to the town's most mentally unstable. Lately though that challenge was getting the best of him. The problem wasn't so much that his profession had lost any appeal, no the problem was he had seemed to hit a brick wall when it came to his patients. It seemed as though any thing he did or said was having no effect on any of them. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what school taught method he used, it seemed like nothing was working. None of his patients had improved in the slightest lately and that fact was frustrating him to exhaustion. On that thought he eased back into the plastic chair and tried to focus on nothing but the sweet coffee. He had begun to succeed when someone suddenly called his name.

The moment he entered the day room he spotted Dr. Lewis. Over the couple of years since he had come to work at Brookhaven Dr. Lewis had become one of his closest friends and most trusted confidants when it came to diagnosing patients. Since the mysterious death of one of Lewis' patients a strange and unsettling void had appeared between the two men. Today though he vowed to do his best to try and lessen that void and bring Lewis back into the place of his best friend. "Hey Terry," he said coming from just right of the doctor.

When Lewis heard his name he nearly jumped out of his seat. He hadn't expected anyone to need his attention, and the calming effect from his coffee had begun to make him feel drowsy. Sleep was just about to steal him away for a moment, but the sudden mention of his name rushed his mind back into reality.

After a small shake of his head and a yawn Lewis looked in the direction his name had come from. When he did he saw a man who was only a few years younger than him walking towards where he sat. The man was almost a head taller than Lewis, and his velvet black hair seemed to make Lewis' graying strands lighter by comparison. "Hi Randy," Lewis said when the man finished his approach of the table.

"So what are you up to Terry? Slacking off on the job it looks like," Randy said with a grin as he took a seat opposite of Lewis at the round lunch table.

"Just taking a break from the stack of paperwork I have to go through. Who knew that so many forms were required to look after the mentally ill?" Lewis said flatly before taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Yeah I know. They just keep tacking on more and more for me to do in evaluating my patients. If it gets any worse I'll have to spend all of my time filling out forms rather than the actual job I was hired to do!" Randy paused for a moment and looked at his colleague's face for any sign of reaction. When none came he just leaned back and continued on. "If that wasn't enough now they've added a new patient to my list to take care of. They must think I have a lot of free time on my hands or something."

"Oh?" was all Lewis barely muttered in response, not quite paying attention to his friend as his mind slowly drifted away from the present and back to the past.

"Yeah, I guess I just happened to be the lucky pick when they brought in our new resident. Some shopkeeper I believe they said by the name of Leiland." As the next moment ticked by Randy muttered to himself over the details surrounding his new patient before going back to talking with Lewis on the matter. "I guess he bludgeoned a man to death because he thought the man was a monster."

At the mention of the word monster Lewis's attention was suddenly drawn back to the conversation his friend was trying to have. Suddenly he remembered the phone call he had received from Officer Simmons and wondered if there was any connection to the patient his friend was describing. "How did your new patient come here?" he asked with a touch of excitement and of hope that a piece of the tragic puzzle he had been through could be put together.

"Some police officer by the name of Simmons brought him in about an hour or so ago. Cocky bastard if I ever saw one. He muttered a few words to me about how bad the shape of the hospital is getting before he decided his time would be better spent flirting with Leslie. Didn't seem in a rush to get out of here, in fact I bet he's still talking over some intricate plan he has for getting her to go on a date with him."

With the mention of Simmons' name Lewis nearly shot up out of his chair. He didn't fully understand why, but suddenly he knew he had to speak with the officer. Maybe it was the fact that he had been there when Cassie had so mysteriously died and had seen for himself the gruesome scene. While everyone else had seemed to push out any memory of what happened he knew that Simmons hadn't done so completely. That fact gave Lewis a link back to a terrifying moment they had shared and knew that it couldn't have been a hoax. For this reason he felt directly connected to him and shot quickly out of his chair to go speak with him.

Leaving his friend to sit in a state of confusion Lewis rushed out of the day room without a word. Moving at a pace just faster than a walk he began to make his way down the hallway towards the reception office where he hoped Officer Simmons would still be. Thoughts of the officer's presence at Cassie's murder scene wrapped themselves around his mind and he knew that he needed the man's help in dealing with the situation. It wasn't until he had gone around the corner at the hallway's end did something hit him and he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. That something was the question of what he was going to say to the officer. In his rush to get a chance to talk with Simmons he had completely forgotten the need to decide on what needed to be talked about. He paused for a moment and tried to string together a few bits of information he felt would be needed. After a moment though he decided just to go on instinct and say whatever came to mind in the moment as he continued back towards the reception area.

The moment he stepped through the reception office's doorway Lewis saw the police officer. Simmons was bent over Leslie's desk, saying something to her in a disgusting tone that was meant to be sweet. A wide grin shown on his face as he looked at the blonde haired assistant, trying to use his charm to win her over. Leslie on the other hand looked like she wasn't the slightest bit interested in the officer's advances. Trying to get back to work, she was doing everything she could to ignore the man and was subtly trying to get rid of him. After a moment of watching this scene unfold Lewis grew tired and slightly annoyed of it and he loudly cleared his throat, getting the officer's attention.

As he tried to convince the blonde receptionist to go out with him John was completely oblivious to anything else that was going on around him, including Dr. Lewis' entrance. When the doctor suddenly cleared his throat it startled the officer, but not enough for it to show. Not changing his attitude in the slightest John turned around and looked at Dr. Lewis as he stood in the doorway looking as though he had something to say. "Ah well hello there Dr. Lewis," John said as he kept up his grin. "I was wondering if I'd see you here today."

"Oh really?" Lewis asked with a hint of curiosity.

"Mhm. I thought that maybe you'd have some spooky new tale to pass along or something," John replied in a sarcastic tone. It was obvious that he was upset that the doctor might had just ruined any chance he had with the young receptionist, but that was just too bad.

"Actually there is something I'd like to talk to you about." Lewis said as he studied the officer, trying to get a better idea of what he was really about. After a moment of silence passed between the two Lewis decided that the reception area was far from the proper place for them to have their discussion. "How about we discuss it in my office and leave Leslie here to her work," he said as he gestured out of the door.

At the mention of the receptionist's name John's charming smile faltered and he looked like he had suddenly been insulted for a moment. Taking a quick look back at the young woman he gave a quick wink before he stood straight up. Once he had given his officer's uniform a quick tug he stepped out the door and waited for Lewis to lead the way.

During the trip to Lewis' officer neither man spoke a word, nor did they even look at each other. Their trip seemed almost dream-like as neither one felt fully in control of their movements but rather simply were led down a carefully laid out path. It wasn't until Dr. Lewis closed his office's door and the two sat down did they shake off the weird vibe that Brookhaven's walls had laid upon them.

"What can I do for you doctor?" John asked as he leaned back in the leather chair set on the other side of the desk.

With Simmons looking back at him Lewis suddenly felt the need for a more planned out idea of what needed to be said. Slowly he wetted his lips with his tongue and said the first thing that came to him. "Has anything else been figured out about Cassie's murder?" he asked intently.

"Not you too doctor." John said with disdain. When he looked back at the doctor and saw how serious he was he decided to give him a better answer. "No, we don't have anything new about her. But should we? The girl died. It was tragic, but how much resources should we waste on a case that has no clues and no clear explanations?"

"_If you lock me in this dank box then He will claim my soul before the sun's rays can embrace my being!" _screamed Cassie's voice inside Lewis' skull. A slight shake of his head brought Lewis to focus back on the officer that sat across from him. He knew that Simmons was right and yet he couldn't bring himself to accept that fact just yet. "Are you sure you have explored everything?" Lewis asked in a desperate plea for resolution, or at least hope of one.

John rubbed his hands together and looked back at the doctor before he spoke. "Honestly doctor, we might have overlooked something, but what's the point in digging any deeper? The girl had no family, none that cared about her at least. So there's no one that would demand an answer to this little mystery. The chief has lost interest in the case and even the newspapers have stopped asking questions. Everyone seems content to write off her death as an unexplainable mystery but you."

"But there has to be some logical reason for..." Lewis started but stopped mid-sentence as his argument began to lose its appeal.

"Strange stuff happens all the time here in Silent Hill, doctor. You of all people should know that."

On that note Lewis thought that he could finally put the whole matter to rest and bury it deep within his mind. His mind however had different plans as it suddenly reminded him of the scrawled out note. Shuffling through the stacks of papers that he had carelessly placed on his desk he looked for the note as Simmons looked on with confusion. After a few moments of frantic searching he had just about given up on finding the note, just as the corner of the small, crumpled piece of paper came into view. Pulling it out from under several sheets of paper he looked at it for a moment to make sure it was what he had been looking for before pushing it across the table to Simmons.

"What's this?" the officer asked as he carefully picked up the note and looked it over.

"That is the reason why I asked about Cassie. Apparently I'm not the only one who hasn't written off her death."

Once he had read over the note John put it back on Lewis' desk and looked back at the doctor with a questioning gaze. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean, doctor?"

Lewis quickly opened his mouth to reply, but left it there silent, as he couldn't think of what to say. The silent void lasted for a moment as Lewis tried to think of something to say, but all he could come up with was, "I don't know." which he said so quietly that Simmons almost missed it.

"Well then there isn't any reason to give it another thought, right?"

Question after question stacked up in the doctor's mind as he tried to think of the best one to ask the officer. What if Cassie had been right about this Red Demon creature? What if that was really what killed her? What if this note was some sort of warning that shouldn't be ignored? While all of these questions held merit, Lewis didn't feel like any of them could be asked of the officer yet. If Simmons was his one connection to reality in all of this then the last thing Lewis wanted to do was to alienate the man by having him think he was crazy. "If only I knew who wrote it," Lewis muttered to himself, but loudly enough that Simmons picked up on it.

"Ah it was probably just one of the nut jobs you got locked up in here with a few too many minutes of free time. I wouldn't give it a second thought." John said in a tone that almost seemed friendly.

"Even if it was one of them, I still should know which one."

"Well, what do you want me to do, have it analyzed?"

The officer's question sparked something in Lewis' mind. If he could have it analyzed then he might be able to tell who had written it. Then he could finally put some of the pieces to this terrible puzzle together. "Yes, that's a great idea," he said to the officer.

"I was just being sarcastic," John replied, trying to show that he wasn't serious about taking the note to be analyzed.

"Why not?" Lewis shot the question at Simmons as the volume of his voice increased and the tone grew frantic. "If you did then maybe I could figure this out."

"We're very busy down at HQ, doctor. We don't have the time to waste on the note of a madman." Though the term seemed to be pointed at whoever had written the note Simmons emphasized on it to show that it could also be applied to Lewis. "Now if you don't mind," John said as he started to get up to leave.

"No!" Lewis yelled as he dove across his desk and in front of the escaping officer. With the note tightly gripped in his hand he shoved it into the officer's face before saying, "You will take this and have your specialists look at it."

"Doctor!" John said as he looked at the seething man before him. The sudden movement from the older man had startled John, and as he looked at the doctor now he panicked at what he might do next. He hadn't planned on listening to another word Lewis might have to say, but the look that John saw made his mind whisper that he should change that opinion. "Okay okay," he said as he took the note. At that moment John still wasn't sure what he would do with the note, but he felt like he should say anything that might calm Lewis down. "I'll have our people downtown look at this for you." As John pocketed the note he looked at Lewis, hoping there wouldn't be anything else the doctor might want from him. When he saw the doctor begin to calm down he took his chance and quickly exited the room.

As the door to his office closed behind Simmons, Lewis felt all his energy drain from him. Slowly he dropped down onto the floor and onto a mess of papers that he had sent flying when he dove across his desk. Thinking of what had just happened Lewis couldn't understand what had come over him. Had the strain of everything really caused such a reaction to come from him? That reaction was common to those who were at Brookhaven, but not from the doctors but rather the patients. Was working and living with insanity all around him causing himself to go insane? With a tired sigh he leaned his back against his desk and simply wondered what was becoming of him.


	4. Ch 4

_Chapter Four_

Something was different. Lewis couldn't tell what exactly was different, but he felt it the moment he opened the door to his office. Slowly he took a step into the small room and began cautiously scanning every inch. Something was out of place. That was the only way he could think to describe the feeling that had suddenly come over him. His nerves came alive with each small step, and every gulp of the air around him seemed like it would be his last. Finally his eyes swept their way across the dark cherry wood desk and found his feeling's cause. He nearly jumped back out of the room when he saw it, taking a moment before his mind whispered to him what it was. With the realization of its identity he slowly closed his office's door behind him and walked around the desk until he sat down in the soft desk chair, never taking his eyes off of it for even a moment.

Even knowing what was out of place hadn't been enough to calm his nerves, and he showed this fact as he edged forward in his chair. Had any noise suddenly sprung to life then surely Lewis would have died right there of a heart attack. "It's ok," he quietly muttered to himself. "It's just an envelope." Though these words were meant as a reassurance they failed in their job. The words had seemed to come from a voice that was distant and alien to him. A voice that was unaware of Cassie, or of the misspelled note, and therefore was unaware of how a plain envelope could cause such distress.

Several moments silently ticked by as Lewis just sat there and stared at the large manila envelope that had ended up on his desk. Without even being conscious of it he began to rub his hands together, as if this action could calm his mind down. Inhaling and exhaling in a long, almost exaggerated fashion, he tried to decide what his next move should be. That alien voice returned to whisper mentions of safety and how he should simply open it. A voice that was more familiar with the recent turn of life events murmured to push it aside in fear that whatever it contained would surely serve as another step downward into insanity. The alien voice, coupled with a strong sense of curiosity, finally won out the argument as Lewis reached forward and took the large envelope in both hands.

With the envelope now only inches from his face Lewis found himself scanning its surface to try and determine its source and to give his other voice one more moment to calm itself down. Shown on its center in large black lettering was his name, as well as Brookhaven's. Slowly crossing the empty gap between the hospital's address and the upper left corner his mind made a quick list of possibilities of to whom this was from. One of those possibilities, one that was further down on the list then should have been, turned out to be the sender. Letting out a breath that had become caught in his lungs in anticipation he read it to himself. _Officer John Simmons, Silent Hill Police Department._

Taking his time Lewis let his fingers slide across the envelope to where the flap had been glued shut. It had been nearly a week since he had forced his mysterious note upon the police officer, and knowing how he had acted during that meeting Lewis was given to serious doubts about whether or not Officer Simmons would actually do anything with the note other than use it as a paper basketball. The presence of this envelope suggested otherwise, and he found that he could hardly contain his anticipation about what secrets had been revealed by the analysts.

Yet he found himself struggle when the moment came to actually find out those revelations. Part of his mind seized his fingers as they slid under the flap and refused to let them reach inside, fearing what exactly those revelations might be. Before Cassie's death Lewis had lead a normal, peaceful life here in Silent Hill. Rumors for years had persisted that something strange was beginning to take hold of the quiet resort town, but Lewis had dismissed even the most bizarre stories as coincidence and happenstance. Since the young girl's death though he had begun to question anything that was even remotely out of the ordinary, afraid that if he were to lull his senses then another horror like the one he witnessed that fateful night would come screaming into his life.

This paranoia and fear was silly and almost childish. That was what the alien voice told him. The voice of reason, his voice that had been allowed to flourish in his mind until those weeks ago. Swallowing away the saliva that had begun to pool in his mouth he felt his fingers once more become lax as they gripped the envelope. Nothing in the envelope should cause such unwarranted fear, no matter what it contained. Besides, this may not even have anything to do with his note. Simmons may have sent a letter on a totally different matter. Whether this was the case or not Lewis could hold himself back no longer as his fingers plunged into the manila colored mouth and took hold of two different textured sheets of paper, before pulling them out and laying them before himself for his approval.

The moment his eyes moved from the envelope to the two sheets of paper his heart jumped in fright. One of the two slips of paper he had seen before, as it sat there it seemingly mocked Lewis as it announced its return into his life. It was something that he had prayed would only be seen in the terrors of his sleep, and as he looked at the crumpled and misspelled note he couldn't help but sit back and allow the demon of it dance its way back into his mind.

Tearing himself away from the already memorized note he looked over at the second slip of paper, though not without some difficulty. The note seemed to call out to him and demand that his attention be brought back to it. Only after he was able to push it aside with his left hand was he able to concentrate on the note's companion in a bid that some sort of answer could be received.

The second slip seemed ordinary enough to the doctor. A golden logo of the police station had been emblazoned on the page's top, followed by a rather business like heading with Simmons' name, badge number, and other details of the sort. Glancing over the page as a whole he noticed how the rest of it appeared normal and professional as John's words had been clearly typed out. Pulling the note closer and looking around for a moment in suspicion Lewis decided to not hold back the revelations that had been splashed across its surface any longer. Slowly, so as to not miss a single letter, he began to read.

_Dear Doctor Lewis. After careful examination of the note that you presented me with our specialist was able to draw two conclusions. The first is that it was written by a left-handed male approximately between the ages of twenty and forty five._

This 'conclusion' struck Lewis as superficial. While he was able to narrow down the notes possible author some by these facts, it still described nearly half of Brookhaven's residents. Reading on he hoped that the second conclusion would provide him with a better clue.

_The only other thing worth mention is what the specialist found out about the ink. It was found not to be ink, but in fact is blood. Type AB negative according to the tests the specialist ran._

Blood? The note had been written, not in red ink, but blood? An icy shiver ran down the length of Lewis' body as this revelation hit him. In the stunned moment that followed the paranoid voice of his mind shouted at him of how it had tried to warn him that such a thing would come as a result of having the note analyzed. His mind's other voice couldn't think of a response, instead pushing him to read the final words of the officer's letter.

_I trust that these two facts will provide you with enough clues to figure the rest out on your own. The police department sees this matter, as well as the death of Cassie, officially closed and deemed unexplainable. Officer John Simmons, Silent Hill Police Department._

When the note closed Lewis found himself unable to do anything but sit there in shock. Such finality had been conveyed in Officer Simmons' closing words that they were too hard for Lewis to simply shake them off. How could he reveal the fact about the note's crimson ink so casually, only for his next comment to be one that tossed the whole matter aside as though it were an every day occurrence? There was no statement to further question the note's chilling message or its bizarre source, no offer to help Lewis in any further digging for clues, no anything. Just a simple and matter-of-fact closing that had ended as though no one else could possibly care about the note or his feelings of it. Lewis found himself feeling so terribly alone.

In the aching silence that his office provided him Lewis grew fearful that Cassie's ghost would take this silent opportunity to once more haunt him as she had done so many times since her death. Instead of sitting in wait for this to happen Lewis found his gaze creep its way over to the crumpled note. Seeing the red lettering made him shiver with fear as his stomach made clear its own opinion about the matter. When he had forced the note into the police officer's hands he had done so in the belief that at least some questions about it would be answered. Belief was a rather strong word, but he had hoped. At least dared to hope. Now though that his haunting reminder had been returned to him he found his mind to be racked with more questions about it, not less. Staring at it with a strange sense of resentment he held back the maddening shouts that he wished to yell in response to its mocking presence. Weary of having to fight back these demons that seemingly would not let go he slumped back into his chair and into a point somewhere between unconsciousness and despair.

Lewis remained in this state for several hours. During this time the world around him continued on with its routine, completely ignorant of Lewis or the torments that life had thrown him. While the world had forgotten about the pitiable existence that the Brookhaven doctor was slipping into, his presence had not been void from every mind.

Traveling down the sterile halls of Brookhaven Doctor Randy Sampson kept a polite smile on his face and his view ahead of him. It was nearing lunch time and after four separate patient visitations he was ready for a break. Having not seen his friend Terry that morning he had decided to pay him a visit before inviting him to share a meal in the day room. Thinking back to the last chance that he was able to speak with Terry caused a bit of worry. Something had been different in his friend's expression that day, and Terry's abrupt departure had caused Randy to worry even more about his friend. As it was he heard that Terry spent most of his free time in his office, doing stacks of paperwork and who knew what else. This fact caused him to decide to try and make a helpful effort in returning his friend back to the life-loving man he was before the mysterious death of one of his patients.

Turning around the corner Randy nearly bumped into one of his colleagues. He exchanged an apology and some kind words with his fellow doctor before they parted ways. As the other doctor headed away from him and down the hall Randy couldn't help but to pause and wonder what had caused him to space out like that. Was it purely exhaustion stemming from his busy morning or was there something more? Was he even more worried about his friend than he thought? Whatever the case was Randy decided to push the matter aside as he continued on to Terry's office.

Pure silence enveloped Lewis as he sat there in the aftermath of reading Officer Simmons' letter. He wasn't sure as to which part of the letter disturbed him more; the fact that the note had been written in blood or the policeman's harsh closing. Sinking into his chair he took the opportunity that the silence had granted him to let his mind debate the issue on its own. A couple of hours passed, though he could've sworn it to be only be a handful of minutes, before his neat and safe little world came crashing down around him as a knock came to his door.

"Yes?" he asked with a slight cough as he roused himself from his state of half consciousness. Picking himself up in his chair he stared at the door as it slowly opened in anticipation of who chose to bother him now and with what. When his tall friend peeked his head out from behind the door relief came over Lewis. At one point in his life the sight of Randy was enough to bring happiness to his heart as his friend seemed to liven up their dull and drab workplace. Now though the sight of Randy could only bring relief; relief in that the knocking had not been caused by yet a new lurking terror. "Hello Randy," Lewis replied in a tone meant to be cordial, but ended up falling well short of its mark.

"Ah Terry," Randy replied back with his own sincere tone. "I was just wondering what you were up to." Stretching his neck a bit he cautiously looked over Lewis' desk to make sure that he hadn't just interrupted some important task that his friend might have been doing. "It's almost one so I thought maybe you'd like a bite to eat," he added as almost an after thought.

"Almost one?" Lewis replied back with shocked confusion. Quickly turning in his chair he looked at the clock that had been hung on his wall and saw that his friend was indeed telling the truth. But the last time he had seen the clock it had read just past ten thirty. How had he lost two hours so easily? As he put this question to himself his nerves sprang to life and his face grew pale as he tried to come up with an answer to justify his missing time.

Randy found himself standing there and staring back at his friend in confusion. Was there something in what he had said to provoke such a reaction from Lewis? "Terry, what's wrong?" he asked in response to the sudden color drain that affected the man before him. "Is there something bothering…" Randy started to say as he took a step towards his friend to reassure him. His statement was never finished though as something caught his eye. "Hey, what's this?" Randy asked as he reached for a crumpled scrap of paper that laid on the floor before him.

Lewis had been completely oblivious to his friend's words. Whether it was by choice or not none could say. Something in Randy's final question though seized his mind away from his current wave of panic and drew it to his friend. As he watched Randy bend down he wondered what possibly could have caught his friend's attention. Watching him slowly straighten back up Lewis found his gaze being focused on his friend's hand and the crumbled piece of paper it contained. Slowly Randy began to smooth it to try and see what was written on it.

The next moment was one that Lewis could swear he had not been a part of. His encounter with Officer Simmons just one week prior suddenly flooded his mind and he found himself living in an echo of that moment. And as he had done with John, Lewis lost complete control when he realized what his friend had. "No!" he screamed as he flew at Randy and grabbed the crumpled slip away. Once he had seized his prize the energy spurred on by the moment quickly disappeared and he sunk back into his chair exhausted as he cradled the blood-written note.

Neither then nor later on could Dr. Sampson have the words to describe his state of mind when his friend suddenly and wildly seized the crumpled paper from him. As he looked upon Lewis he felt that he was not looking upon a man, but something closer to an animal. This behavior he had seen in people before, in the people he had been surrounded by and spent his days trying to help, but never from anyone to whom would bear the label of sane. Lewis' behavior had left him truly terrified.

When exhaustion set into Lewis' mind he suddenly became clear of whatever demon had possessed him for that brief moment. Though his memory told him that he had committed the act of sheer lunacy when it was revealed what Randy had, he very much believed that it was something he had only witnessed. Like Randy, he couldn't believe what had happened in that fraction of a moment. Thinking back to when he had done the same for Officer Simmons he felt as though all the barriers of his mind were beginning to crumble away and he worried that dealing with insanity for so long was causing him to in fact become insane.

When this revelation hit Lewis he found himself on the verge of a breakdown. His eyes began to grow sore with emotion and they yearned to be kept shut, but Lewis refused them this luxury. Keeping them open he stared at the crumpled piece of paper that lay in his hands. How could something so small, so seemingly innocuous, cause such a reaction from him. This note surely had some power that was too great for one man to try and control. In that moment he knew that he had to share this burden with his friend. With a sigh that released the last of his tangible emotions he placed the note on his desk and pushed it across until it was within his friend's reach.

As Randy saw this action, a part of the tension that coursed through him relaxed, though only a small part. Seeing Lewis' reaction the last time he had reached for the note Randy felt very nervous about reaching for it again, even though he could tell something within his friend had changed. He moved his hand towards the paper slip very slowly and cautiously, keeping his eyes on Lewis the whole time, ready to pull away at the first sign that Lewis was about to have another fit. The moment his fingers made contact he snatched the note up and backed away, letting himself have one more precaution against any madness that might suddenly grab hold of his friend. When it appeared that his friend's lax state would not change Randy unfolded the note and began to look it over.

As soon as Randy's fingers had touched the note, his note, Lewis could feel the beckoning of his unforeseen demon once more. This time though he was able to fight it back, knowing that he needed his friend to read the note. He needed somebody, anybody, to read it and be able to help him to understand it. For some reason he had thought that Officer Simmons could have been the one to help him, seeing the bond made from Cassie's death to be one that would bring the two men together in the face of this new horror. That belief had obviously been wrong. Now he decided to turn to his one friend, his one sane island amongst the insane sea of Brookhaven, in the hope that together they would find a way to put an end to this madness.

When Randy had finished reading the note he could scarcely believe it. As Lewis had done before, Randy felt the need to read it again, hoping that he had somehow misread the short and barely legible message. A second read through didn't change the note's contents however and as the full weight of it impacted him Randy felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Slowly his hands dropped and the note moved out of his view. With his view no longer obstructed all he could do was simply stare at his friend with wide eyes and a sense somewhere between understanding and pity.

Lewis had been watching his friend the whole time that the note had blocked Randy's face. He was waiting a reaction, any reaction, that his friend might give at discovering the note's message. What he saw in those wide eyes told him that his friend's state was not far from the one he had been in when he had first discovered the note. "Now do you understand?" Lewis quietly and vaguely asked. While someone might believe the question to be related to his frantic behavior concerning the note, it was in fact meant to imply the entirety of the situation that Lewis had found himself a victim of.

"It has to be a practical joke," Randy replied, hoping to bring some reassurance to Lewis. The look on Lewis' face though showed how little he believed in this theory. "Okay, a very sick practical joke. But that's all this has to be, right?" This explanation seemed logical enough, and thus his mind tried to force his acceptance of it. Somewhere deep down though he knew that this was no logical note. He knew that something more was at play here, and though his words were meant to put Lewis' mind at ease, his tone betrayed this true sense of the situation and left Lewis faring no better.

Lewis knew though that this was no practical joke. In simpler, saner days he might have believed that explanation as truth. Since Cassie's death though he just couldn't accept anything at face value. Like Randy's unmentioned feeling he knew that this note was just a small part of a bigger and more terrifying picture. He had to find out who had written the note. Only then he knew that there was a chance he would be able to lay his demons to rest.

"Randy," Lewis started in a tone that lacked depth, but soon became a plea as his words continued on. "I have to find out who wrote that. Whether it's just a practical joke or not I need to know. Can you help me?"

Could he help him? At the moment Randy felt in a position that he could be asking the same, but he knew that the position he occupied was far better than where Lewis was. Through this note Randy was only getting a peek, a brief glimpse, into the hell that Lewis had tumbled into upon Cassie's death. This small peek was enough to make Randy shiver, so he could only imagine as to the terrors his friend was going through. Immediately upon Lewis' question Randy's mind had screamed out a firm no. It wanted to cast of this evil shroud that it could feel emanating from the slip of paper in his hands, and run back to the safety of a normal and sane world. Deep down though Randy knew that he could not close this door so easily. Something like the feeling that had now taken hold of him was a feeling that could only be shaken by a firm resolution. By reading this note Lewis' problem had become his problem, and as he looked into the green and gray flecked eyes of his friend and saw the helpless despair that dwelled inside them he knew that he had to do whatever it took to help both of them resolve this situation.

Standing there with his firm new determination to solve the note's mystery he slowly looked over it, taking in every little facet and nuance that it offered. Something was familiar about this note. Something about it seemed to scratch deep within his brain and whispered about how he had seen this before. But how could he have? This note was surely a new work of terror, wasn't it? If indeed it was then where could he have possibly seen it before? Randy's mind was racked with questions as he continued to stare at the note, hoping that somewhere between the written words a memory would be dragged out and he would be able to divine why such a sense of familiarity had come over him. Then, as if a wave of information had suddenly crashed against the beach that was his mind, he figured it out. It was not the note itself that had struck a cord, but rather the writing. This writing he had seen before. Standing there in silence he dug through every bit of information stored in his mind, hoping that somewhere locked away was the first piece he needed to complete this puzzle. And then suddenly it was before him. "I'll be right back," Randy said quickly to Lewis as he rushed out of the room.

Randy's sudden exit left Lewis to sit there dumbfounded. To him he felt suddenly as though the roles between them had been reversed from their last meeting when he had so suddenly left to speak with Officer Simmons. Pushing this sudden abandonment aside he began to wonder what exactly had been going through his friend's mind. Obviously he had been deep in thought, but to what end? Was the solution to all of this madness really to be found within the recesses of his friend's mind? Could all of his tireless searching been ended so long ago had he simply confided in his friend? To be so close to an answer and yet so far away at the same time. That thought in itself was maddening.

As Lewis waited for his friend's return he found himself in an eerie silence once more, this time without even the precious note to keep his mind at bay. Everything that had happened to him lately was causing such a drain on him. Cassie's death, the mysterious note, Officer Simmons' blatant regard of him and the situation, all of this tied in with the normal burden of dealing with Silent Hill's insane was causing him to be pushed down into such a dark pit of despair. Sleep had become a luxury to him, eating something to only be done out of necessity. His wife had been nearly ignored as Lewis withdrew into himself in an attempt to solve the crisis he had found his soul to be entangled in. He felt bad for all of it, but knew that he could not go back and undo what had been done. The past had passed, and now only in his future could he hope to overcome any of these obstacles. With Randy's help he hoped to finally put the entire matter behind him and to be able to return to his once sane life as a doctor in a mental hospital. Something in his skull whispered to him though that this madness could not so easily be overcome.

Without any warning the door to Lewis' office abruptly swung open, revealing Dr. Sampson on the other side. Not even pausing to close the door he made his way across the room, his eyes locked upon Lewis the whole time. Lewis noticed his friend to be carrying a manila file folder that had been tucked just under his left arm. When he approached the desk he swiftly removed the folder from its spot and placed it on the desk in front of Lewis before saying, "I think I may have found out who wrote that note." His tone was thick with uncertainty, which prompted a 'but' to be uttered from him.

Lewis was completely unaware of the uncertainty that his friend harbored about this information. All he had heard was the possibility that at least one of his demons would be put to rest and he had jumped onto the folder as though it was the one thing that he had sought after his entire life.

Inside the folder Lewis found the standard information sheet that laid out all of a patient's information. The enclosed picture showed a very pale, very fragile man, yet when you looked into his eyes you got the sense that this man was far from weak. Running his fingers across this seemingly sacred document he found the age of this man to be twenty eight years old, and his name to be Christian Leiters. Lewis knew that he had to speak with this man, but suddenly his mind registered the doubts that his friend had tried to convey to him. Tearing himself away from Christian's file he looked into his friend's eyes. The doubt was immediately tangible, and Lewis' heart sank at the possibility that the man in this photo was not the note's author. "What is it Randy?" he asked as concerned welled up inside him.

Taking in a deep breath Randy searched his friend's face for a moment, hoping to find just the right words for what needed to be said. No words came to him though and he decided to just state out flatly the reason why Christian could not have authored the note. "He's been locked up in the isolation ward for the past three months, Terry. With only food allowed to be taken in there is no way he could have gotten this piece of paper to write on. Let alone delivered it to you."

These words splashed over Lewis as he found himself suddenly drawn back to the Brookhaven patient's photo. Looking into those blank eyes he felt a new wave of terror come over him and he could've swore he saw an evil grin peek just out the corner of the madman's mouth.


	5. Ch 5

_Chapter Five_

A memory, a note, and now a picture. Whether some being was consciously willing it or not Lewis' small collection of insanity was growing. It was growing, and with it grew also the list of questions that raced through his mind.

Each time he had taken a step forward he had done so in the hope that with that step a piece of this horrifying puzzle would reveal itself, and another question could be crossed off his list as he longed for some understanding. None of these steps had brought him this so desired result. No, in fact if anything his grip of the situation was loosening, not tightening. With every step had come a haunting new revelation, and with each new revelation came one more crack in the already fragile barrier between soundness and insanity.

Oh what had become of his life? How quickly he had tumbled down after Cassie's gruesome death into this lowly state of despair. Sitting there with only his mind and his demons for company he kept asking the same question over and over in his mind. Was a fraction of understanding on this matter too much to be granted? Could someone not find some way to give him even the most meager of clues about his newfound hell? He felt himself to be at the bottom of despair over this matter, though even he knew he had not yet hit bottom. This he knew was the case because he had seen the depths of hell for what they truly were. Years ago he had been on society's bottom rung, and some how he had just barely been able to survive and climb back up.

Picking up this stray thought his right hand began to move up and down its smooth glass surface. Comfort could be found beneath that surface. Momentary comfort at least. Then that comfort would fade as surely as everything else did in life and he knew that he would be in an even worse state then he was now. Gripping it and drawing it nearer Lewis could hear its temptations and its assurances that it was just what he was in need of.

Slowly his eyes wandered over to the bottle and eyed the brownish liquid that swirled inside. Flicking his tongue across his cracked lips he felt another voice inside him beckon that he take a drink. Inching it ever so slowly forward the alcohol came toward where it knew it was wanted. The cold and unceasing will of the temptation had almost blanketed his being in its own greed, but finally at the last moment Lewis pushed the bottle away. It had been a long time since he had wasted his life in abuse and it had been a long time taken for him to recover. He was not about to let himself fall victim to this demon any more. Especially now that he had hope.

Hope. As Lewis placed the bottle back into his desk drawer and pulled his mind away from it he let it focus on the now almost alien concept of hope. It was a simple concept, one so much so that children seemed to cling to it without any knowledge of doing so. And while it was so simple it was also so very powerful. Many people claimed that hope was enough to push mountains and bring about anything that one desired. Hope was touted as being a good thing, an unshakable thing, and surely the best thing of all. If this were the case though then why had it hidden itself for so long from this doctor in the quiet little town of Silent Hill?

That was not entirely true. Hope herself had been present several times throughout Lewis' forty-eight years of life. She had brought him his lovely wife Sarah, the career he had so trained and worked for and wanted here at Brookhaven, plus a quiet and relaxing life in this small resort town. At least it had been a quiet life before Cassie had entered it. Since then it had seemed to be anything but. Sitting there in the stillness of his office Lewis found himself unable to do anything but simply hope that his friend and this mysterious patient of his could bring him enough hope and enough resolution to finally put an end to all this mind numbing madness.

As these thoughts entered his mind Lewis found his hand moving to grasp something else. It was a manila colored patient folder, the folder that belonged to Christian. Randy had left the folder to his care in the hope that Lewis might better understand this man and why he was the note's most likely author. Lewis had in fact read over Christian's file and all the notes that pertained to him, so much so that it had become a fanatical obsession for him. An obsession that' he felt he couldn't abandon until he finally met this man and, God willing with his help, put an end to his nightmares.

When Randy had brought him this folder he had done so with an unsettled feeling that Lewis had been able to pick up on almost instantly. From what Lewis could gather from his friend's words Christian had of one of the most disturbing and creepy mindsets that Randy had ever encountered. Knowing this he had felt the need to tell Lewis how deeply disturbed the man was and warn him about the dangers of dealing with him. Lewis had listened closely to everything his friend told him, but in the end dismissed it all and pushed ahead, blinded by everything but the small chance that this man could help in some way.

After discussing over the matter for several hours Randy had finally agreed with him that Christian should be met, but that meeting in itself was no easy matter. Three months ago there had been an incident between Christian and one of the other patients, one which had quickly become violent and had ended with injury to the other patient. For this the hospital's administrators had locked him up in the isolation ward and left him completely void of any contact other than the psychologist assigned to him, Randy.

Their decision had been the right one, of course Lewis would justly agree to that, but it did hamper his efforts in trying to speak to the man. In order for anyone else to be allowed visitation with him an appeal had to be made to which ever administrator was on call that day. If the appeal was discovered to be sound then that administrator could, and usually did, allow for it. But in that very action right there laid another problem for the two doctors; what was their excuse? Surely they couldn't tell the truth and say this matter involved a note and the strange death of a young girl; even though that's what Randy felt should be done. No, that wouldn't work at all for them. Anyone that heard this as their excuse would have the both of them evaluated, possibly even deciding to throw the two doctors into their own padded rooms. Something else had to be made up as the excuse, and being the one that had to present it forced Randy to leave Lewis' office with a sigh and a promise that somehow he would figure it out.

Not even a single moment after Randy had left did Lewis tear open the manila file folder, suddenly very eager to learn all he could about this patient of Brookhaven's. Like most of the other patients that had been sent to Brookhaven very little was known about him. His name and age were only listed because he had chosen to let these facts about him be known. Once a background check had been performed on him by the local police it was discovered that he had lived in Ashfield as a child, but records of him stopped around the age of fifteen. Other than that he was practically a mystery.

Facts about Christian's previous life were of little consequence to Lewis. While he had always felt it important to know everything he could about a patient, including their past, he simply felt that these details weren't necessary in this case. Whatever grand and simple life Christian had as a child was no where near as important as one simple fact: why he was at Brookhaven. This was the part that Lewis felt truly needed to be known and understood, and skimming through Christian's bio Lewis' anticipation of the reason behind this man's incarceration grew. Finally he found this so desired information, and he felt a surge of joy course through him, until he actually read it.

Christian had apparently been found in the woods near Toluca Lake by a group of hunters. The report went on to say that he had been found wandering about, completely naked, muttering how God had abandoned him. Upon reading this an icy chill ran down Lewis' spine, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Did he really expect this man, who had been locked away in a mental hospital and deemed insane, to present a logical story for why he was here? No, of course not. If there had been no strange and creepy story behind him then surely there wouldn't have been need to put him here. With a sigh and a simple shake of his head Lewis read on.

Not knowing what else to do with the man, the hunters had brought him back into town and turned him over into police custody. Once there he had been booked for indecent exposure and vagrancy, before being tossed into a cell.

Pausing in his reading for a moment Lewis' mind wondered why this had been Christian's fate. Did the officer's downtown not believe this man to be a victim of some sort and try to help him? To just throw him in a cell and write him off seemed to be such a cruel waste to Lewis, yet he could hardly find it surprising given the morality of Silent Hill's police force; or rather lack thereof. The local police division had quite a reputation behind them for their inability to properly handle many situations that had sprung up over the years. This probably attributed to the rash of crimes that splashed across the pages of local newspapers. And if everything that could be read were true, then who knew what was going on just beneath the surface of their quiet little resort town. There was no use in dragging anything out in the open though, everyone preferred to keep things quiet so as not to disturb the flow of tourists.

Apparently Christian had spent the next few months rotting away in a jail cell before the paper work on him had finally gone through the system. Once this had taken place the police chief had brought in a specialist to talk with the man to determine his mental state. It was after this meeting that the decision had been made to send him here to Brookhaven, where Randy had been assigned to work with him.

Going over his friend's notes on the man, Lewis immediately found one thing to stand out. Christian had been a resident of Brookhaven and a patient of Randy's for nearly three years. Being here for so long, why did he choose now to let his presence be known and so torture Lewis with it? Was there really a connection between this man and Cassie that he was unaware of? Did her death bring about cause for him to write that note and bring Lewis further down into the depths of hell? But according to Randy he had been locked up in isolation for the past three months, during which the whole of the events surrounding Cassie and her death had taken place. So how could he even have known that she had been brought to Brookhaven, let alone that she had been mysteriously and gruesomely murdered? These questions did nothing more than further confuse him upon thought, confusion that was so tangible that it was a source of pain for him. Holding his hand to his temple he decided to simply leave his questions alone until he was given the proper chance to ask them of this man.

Pushing aside the file folder and his questions Lewis sat there and took advantage of the silence that his office offered. In his mind he knew that Randy was making the appeal today, and that by the day's end he might be sitting here after having a talk with Christian. Before that happened though he felt the need to take one last moment to gather his thoughts about everything.

In honest he couldn't come up with a single thing that needed to be sorted out. Three days had passed since Lewis had pulled his friend into the nightmarish hell that seemed to be made solely for him. During that time he had come up with various excuses to get out of doing as much work as he could get away with, wanting only to devote his time to the memorization of Christian's file and the memorization of what he would say to this man when they came face to face. This memorization had taken a toll on Lewis, and he felt exhausted by it. Of course, since Cassie's death, when had he not been exhausted? That night those weeks ago seemed to be the last one in which he was given to normal, restful sleep. Now any actual sleep that he got was merely a momentary point of calm in between the crashing waves of this nightmarish reality. Was all this being done to him from some purposeful will? Was Cassie somehow haunting him to exact retribution for her death, that he felt he was surely the cause of? Going over these questions his eyelids grew heavy and slowly, ever so slowly and calmly, they slid over his bloodshot eyes. Blackness entered his mind and he felt himself begin to drift off until suddenly a knock came to the door followed by its creaking hinge.

"Terry! Terry!" Randy called to his friend as he entered the quiet office. When he burst in and saw Lewis, sitting there silently with closed eyes, he assumed that his friend had fallen asleep waiting for his return. While incorrect, this assumption was not far off, and it took him calling Lewis' name several times to rouse the doctor.

"What is it Randy?" Lewis asked as he sat up in his chair and shook off any lingering feelings of unconsciousness that still held onto his being.

"You got your meeting, Terry. Christian is being moved to one of the 'M' rooms on the second floor temporarily so you can speak to him. And he's ready right now, if you are."

This news brought new energy to the restless doctor and suddenly he found himself practically leaping out of the comfortable office chair. Standing there he could hear hope whisper into his ear about how finally the nightmare would come to an end, of how finally Cassie's ghost could be placed out of his mind for its eternal rest, and of how finally he could return to the normal life he had known before all of these things had taken place. Smoothening his white doctor's coat for a moment he simply nodded his readiness at his friend.

Randy was not so eager for this meeting with Christian, but he knew that his friend needed it. He knew that it might be Lewis' only chance to free himself of the deadening shackles which had been placed upon him the moment he had taken in the sight of Cassie's murdered corpse. He and Lewis had been friends for a number of years, best friends in Randy's opinion, and knowing that relationship they shared he knew that he had to help his friend from this pit of despair he had fallen into. While a simple meeting with one of his patients seemed a small way to be of help, Randy knew that there was nothing simple about Christian Leiters. Despite his misgivings about Christian and the ensuing meeting Lewis would have with this man Randy still felt obliged to set it up, as it was the only way he could see to do what he truly wanted in this matter; help his friend. At Lewis' nod Randy gave a nod of his own before turning around and leading his friend out into the hospital's drab hallway.

As the pair of doctors made their way down the near empty hallway not a word was said between them. They both knew the situation, though Randy probably didn't quite have as full of a grasp on it as Lewis did, and they both knew what to expect when they met Christian, except that it was Randy this time who probably grasped the situation for its entirety. Still, despite any doubts, any misgivings, any ill-feelings about it they pressed on, fully ready for whatever would come their way.

The silence lasted between the two men until they stepped onto the elevator to go up to the hospital's second floor. It was here that Lewis felt the awkward and foreboding essence that this silence embodied, and he felt that it should be ended by him before something more frightening and more drastic was given the chance. Besides this fact a question had laid dormant in his mind ever since Randy had first uttered Christian's name to him. This question he decided shouldn't be withheld any longer. "Randy," he started in a calm tone, "Why exactly do you think that Christian is the one that wrote the note? I mean, if he's been locked up in isolation, then what was it that told you he was the note's author?"

Staring ahead at the cold steel of the elevator doors Randy listened intently to his friend's question, and gave a noticeable exhale of breath when it had been fully asked. This question of Lewis' he knew was well intended, and why shouldn't Lewis be told of his reasoning anyway? Still though he found something in his mind hold back the information for one last moment. Finally though his will prevailed. "It was the handwriting Lewis, it was the handwriting."

If this simple explanation was meant to be a satisfying one then it had fallen well short of its mark. At least that was Lewis' opinion of it. For a moment he stood there and waited in the hope that Randy had something more to add. When it became apparent that his friend had hoped to end the discussion on that note Lewis simply placed his hand on Randy's shoulder and muttered his name in a tone that was an obvious plea for more to be told.

Randy's throat felt suddenly dry as Lewis looked upon him, hopeful for a fuller explanation. This explanation wasn't something that he felt he could deliver though. No, that wasn't entirely true. The truth was that he didn't want to deliver this explanation. He felt in that moment to be slipping into an unholy realm, one in which he knew would only drag him further into its depths if he were to mention Christian or the note further. It was almost as if that by denying himself to speak of them he was in fact denying their existence altogether. Deep in his being though he knew this fact to be untrue, and therefore he decided to add more to his reply.

"When Christian was first brought here he used to write all the time. Nothing of use to me or any else that might want to read it mind you, as it was all written in some strange language that as far as I know doesn't exist. While no one other than Christian knows what was written down there was something else about it that always stuck in the back of my mind. It wasn't _what _he wrote, but _how _he wrote it. The poor grammar and spelling of your note was a match to what he used to write. That plus the simple look of the handwriting itself is a perfect match." As the elevator began to slow in its ascent Randy hoped that this added information was enough to satisfy his friend's curiosity. He himself didn't feel like discussing the matter further, and due to that feeling he was surprisingly glad when the elevator came to a stop and its cold steel doors opened onto the second floor.

Stepping out of the small elevator Lewis took in the feeling that had awaited him on this second floor. To say that there was an actual presence or mood to the floor was completely absurd, yet he still felt like there was one. The mood crawled along the walls and drifted through the air with the single intent to take hold of Lewis and force him away from Christian and this nightmare. Though why would anything wish for him to not meet this man? Had his nightmare realm grow so strong and so powerful that it now bore a consciousness of its own? And in that consciousness did it too know fear, fear in fact that his meeting with Christian might cause its demise? Drifting in between thoughts Lewis continued on completely clueless of the world around him. Once the short journey between the elevator and the room marked 'M3' was completed he simply gave himself a quick shake of his head, a quick shake back into reality, before placing his hand on the door.

As Lewis reached for the door Randy took a step forward, ready to follow his friend into the depths of the insanity that Christian Leiters offered. Lewis picked up on this action right away and instead of opening the door he simply turned to Randy, looked him straight in the eyes, and said "This is something I need to do alone my friend." Randy quickly opened his mouth in protest, but closed it again in response to a raise of Lewis' hand.

To Randy he felt like Lewis needed him when dealing with this man. In fact he knew Lewis did. After everything he had gone through over the past few days he felt like Christian owed him as much of an explanation as he did to Lewis. All of these feelings and beliefs welled up inside the younger doctor, and he was full well prepared to ignore this request and enter anyway, but something stopped him. There was something in his friend's eyes that forced his acceptance of Lewis' request, and with a silent grumble he agreed. "I'll be right here," Randy told Lewis as in his mind he wished his friend luck, "In case…" he started to add, but suddenly decided that nothing more needed to be said.

"Thank you my friend," Lewis said, attempting a long unused smile, as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. A moment grew from this contact and suddenly the friendship that these two men had so enjoyed was once more made whole. The moment stretched on for several seconds until finally Lewis decided he should hold off destiny no longer. With an inaudible sigh he pushed the doors open and slipped inside.

The moment Lewis entered the patient room he brought his hand up to shadow his eyes. Sunlight was spilling into the room through the large windows opposite him, and as a result there was a significant change in brightness between this room and the dimly fluorescent lit hallway he had just exited. Normally sunlight wasn't a problem in these rooms as they were usually heavily curtained, but this room had been vacant for the past two weeks and all of its linens had long been stripped away for cleaning. He assumed that in the rush to bring this meeting to fruition there had not been proper enough time to redress the room and make it suitable. It was barely a bother to him though, and he pushed it aside into the pile made of all the other things that might hold him back from this destined meeting.

"I have been waiting for you," a voice said flatly somewhere in front of Lewis.

Taking a step forward Lewis saw a figure begin to take shape amidst the blinding light. "Christian Leiters?" he asked somewhat shaky.

"Yes Doctor Lewis," the figure replied, not changing intonation in the slightest. Slowly the figure turned its head and glanced at the doctor from over its shoulder. When it saw Lewis' state because of the sunlight it decided to speak again. "You'll have to forgive me doctor; I haven't been able to witness the sun's beauty for several months. Still though, that's no excuse for gluttonous indulgence." As these words ended the room seemed to change drastically, though in fact it stayed the same. The change was the sun's rays as they suddenly appeared to dim, making the scene much more bearable to Lewis' aged and tired eyes.

Instantly his mind fled through the many hurried questions that dawned on him the moment the sun seemingly dimmed, but Lewis refused to give any of these distractions an audience. He was here, finally, about to speak with the latest demon to enter his life, and he was determined to press onward unimpeded. "I'm here to talk to you about something," he found himself suddenly say to Christian, unsure exactly how he should word things in this matter.

"I know why you are here, doctor," Christian said, unmoving in both his tone and his body.

This statement knocked back Lewis' senses for a moment as he wondered how exactly Christian knew his reasons. Staring at the pale man as the sunlight was cast onto him Lewis felt to be nearly a fool when he realized where Christian had obviously learned of his reasons. "If Dr. Sampson told you why I am here then…"

"It wasn't your friend who told me why you needed to speak with me," Christian suddenly said, interrupting Lewis' thoughts and his words. "No, of this I didn't need Dr. Sampson's knowledge. I got my knowledge, and your reasons, from another source. I got them from _Him_."

A deathly chill ran down Lewis' spine and he felt himself suddenly back in time and facing Cassie. There was such a weight behind Christian's final word and it seemed that weight contained the same feeling and mentality that Cassie's words had contained when she described the Red Demon to Lewis. He knew that this was no odd coincidence, and for the first time he truly believed there to be a connection between these two patients.

"So you know about why I'm here," Lewis muttered, more to himself than to Christian, "And you apparently know about Cassie…"

"Cassie?" Christian said with question in his tone. "Ah, so that was her name." he added with a pleased sigh, showing the first emotion and the first sign that he was indeed human that Lewis had seen.

"You mean you knew about her death, but you didn't even know her name?" blurted out Lewis. Regretting it he knew that when dealing with this man he had to hold his emotions in check and use just a bit more tact.

"He knows not one's name, Dr. Lewis, only that one has sinned and that is it is His duty to bring about their eternal reckoning."

_"He is the judge of the accused, the bringer of atonement, and the slayer of the damned." _Cassie's voice whispered inside of Lewis' mind. If any doubt had been left in his mind about whether Christian had written the note and about whether he and Cassie were somehow connected, that doubt shattered in this instance. Now that he knew Christian to be the note's author and truly a part of this horrifying puzzle then only one thing was left to be asked; why. "Tell me Christian." Lewis flatly said in a tone that bordered on plea. "Tell me why you sent me that note those weeks ago."

The whole of the world froze in that moment and Lewis wondered if Christian, in his unwillingness to move, had actually been turned into some twisted statue. Slowly though the man turned to face him. As he turned his shoulder length strands of blonde hair fell away to give view of his face. The mouth on this face appeared to be nothing more than a cracked slit, the nose a simple piece of bone that flesh had been stretched over until it came to a point, and the eyes, those wide and dark brown eyes. When they fixed on Lewis panic rushed through him and he felt that if he didn't hold onto something quickly then he would plummet into their icy depths. "It was sent as a warning, doctor," Christian said in a tone so chilling as to cause a whole new wave of fear to wash over Lewis. "A warning that He knows of your sin and will come to judge you for it soon."

Inside his mind, his heart, hell everything that was beating, suddenly screamed for Lewis to exit this room and the presence of this man; lest his descent into insanity become complete. Despite all of this though Lewis somehow managed to stand his ground and wonder to what Christian was referring to. Sure Lewis knew that he was not a perfect man, that he had plenty of faults, and as such had caused plenty of mistakes, but was this not the case for all of man? Had each individual not committed a list of meager sins in their life to which they desperately tried to atone for? He had sinned, it was something he would unashamedly admit to, but he had committed no crime, no sin, that was equal to the punishment he had seen delivered to Cassie.

In that moment as Lewis reasoned within his own mind Christian looked upon him. By way of the doctor's expressions Christian suddenly knew that the note of warning had been in vain. "Yes Lewis, you have sinned." Christian suddenly said as though he had crept into the doctor's mind and stolen his thoughts. "You have sinned a most horrible sin. A sin that you cannot prepare to atone for by His hand, for it is a sin that your mind has buried deep within you. It is a sin that has been forgotten within the recesses of your mind. A sin that I must bring forth."

Complete confusion took hold of Lewis as he grew even more lost by Christian's latest words. He was about to say something to this man to try and clear things up for the both of them, but he wasn't given the chance.

The next moment happened so fast and with such a dream-like quality that no one could have believed it to have happened, let alone had the time to react to it. From Lewis' perspective the first thing he noticed was a horrible shattering noise as something fell to the ground. He didn't have the time to realize that the sound came from Christian's shackles as they slipped loose from his hands and crashed upon the tiled floor. Nor did he have the time to react as the deceivingly frail looking man grabbed him with powerful arms, wrapping one around Lewis' back and placing the other one on the doctor's temple.

"Husha," Christian said in an unearthly tone. "Husha, husha, husha." With each utterance of the word Christian's tone became softer and more calming.

Had these been merely words then Lewis might have had the chance to push the madman off of him, or at least call for help. These were more then words though, and suddenly he found a choking blackness set into his mind. With all of his strength, his hope, and his will, he tried to stave off this encroaching twilight. Desperately he fought and scrambled to find any light that he could use as a saving grace. His struggle quickly became a vain one though and finally his mind gave itself over to the darkness and Lewis lay on the room's cold floor unconscious.


	6. Ch 6

_Chapter Six_

Pain. That was the first thing that Lewis experienced as his mind stumbled back into consciousness. There was an indescribable pain that seemed to unceasingly thud inside his mind. Lying there he focused on this pain for a moment before deciding to open his eyes in an attempt to see what was going on.

His eyelids responded slowly to his request that they open, and it seemed to take considerable effort just to accomplish this most basic task. When his eyelids finally did peel away though he found his vision to be in no better shape. Everything was a blur to him, and only a few colors could be made out at first. Gradually though the blurs smoothened and took recognizable shapes. Far beyond he could see the plaster ceiling and the glow of a fluorescent tube could be identified out of the corner of his eye. What caught his attention though was the blur that took up most of his field of vision. The blur became a face, a young woman's face, and as he began to realize this he found the face to suddenly be smiling back at him.

"Shh Dr. Lewis," the young woman gently shushed as her face confused him and that confusion displayed itself upon his face. "Everything is going to be all right now."

Despite the woman's reassurance Lewis found this fact to be in serious doubt. Still very much dazed and confused he suddenly sat up, bringing himself up from the bed where he lay and to eye level with the woman that smiled back at him. "Who are…." he started to question her, but suddenly lost the strength to continue as another wave of pain hit him and another feminine voice came to his ears.

"Dr. Lewis, please lay back down," the new voice told him in a firm tone that lacked the pleasing gentleness of the other one.

Unable to keep upright as the pain washed over Lewis' mind, he abided the request and laid back down. The second voice he recognized almost immediately and he turned his head to look at the dark red hair of Dr. Hunt before she turned back around and approached him.

"You should feel thankful Terry, that in addition to being such a skilled psychiatrist I double into a rather decent physician. Who knows what would have happened to you if I hadn't have been here to apply an ice pack to your head." She said with a sarcastic grin as she placed the icy cold bag on his forehead.

"Thanks Joyce," Lewis replied with the same sarcasm before he too smiled. While the two doctors didn't know much about each other they knew enough for a loose friendship to be formed. Friendship might have been too strong of a label to place upon them, but neither of them felt that the situation was dire enough to be so analyzed.

As this friendly moment passed Lewis suddenly was thrown back to his last conscious memory. Christian had attacked him! He had attacked him suddenly and in such a way that pushed him into the black depths of unconsciousness! "What happened?" he found himself suddenly and frantically asking.

Applying a reassuring hand to Lewis' shoulder Dr. Hunt shushed him for a moment before saying, "It's okay Terry. I'm going to go and get Randy, let him know you're all right. He can explain things to you." A comforting smile made its way from her face before she turned and made her way out of the room.

Once Dr. Hunt had exited the room Lewis began to lay back down in an attempt to regain some comfort when suddenly he caught sight of the young woman again. In his brief exchange of words with Dr. Hunt this woman had remained completely silent, and as a result Lewis had forgotten about her. Now though he focused his attention back on her, found her to still be smiling, and asked again who she was.

"My name is Michelle," she casually said as she pointed to a name tag that she wore. "Don't worry Dr. Lewis, everything is fine now."

Taking his eyes off of the woman's face, which was still smiling, he looked down at her name tag. It was pinned to a white blouse and immediately Lewis realized her to be in the normal outfit worn by Brookhaven's nursing staff. This seemed to give Michelle a purpose for being there, and yet as she was someone that Lewis didn't believe he had seen before, he was still left confused.

"I'm new here, working as an intern," Michelle responded, reading Lewis' thoughts by way of his expression. She probably would have said more to Lewis at this moment, something that he would have gladly accepted, but suddenly their conversation was cut short as the room's door opened, giving way to the two Brookhaven doctors of Joyce and Randy.

"Ah Terry," Lewis' friend said the moment he entered the room. "I'm so glad to see that you're better. Joyce here told me that she couldn't find anything wrong with you. It's almost as though you just passed out. No matter though, I'm just happy Christian didn't hurt you." Standing there and looking at his friend Randy felt the sudden urge to hug him, but after a moment's struggle his mind decided against it. He didn't want to impose himself on Lewis, in case his friend was not as well off as he assumed. That plus he didn't want to impose any embarrassment that Lewis might get from the friendly gesture. Instead though he placed a hand on Lewis' shoulder, letting this simple gesture convey to Lewis how happy and relieved he was.

"Well I'm not completely..." Lewis began, about to tell his friend about the throbbing pain that still rested inside his skull. Before he finished his thought though, he suddenly realized that the pain was gone. It had simply vanished as though it had never been there, leaving nothing but his memory of it in its wake. Confused about its abrupt end Lewis found himself catch sight of Michelle's smiling face one more time as she slipped out of the room.

Shaking off any reminiscing thoughts about the pain or the strange nurse Lewis refocused his mind back to Christian and the cause for his being here. "What happened Randy?" Lewis pleaded the question. "What happened between me and Christian?"

"I don't know Terry," Randy replied as his smile faded into a look of concern. "I was standing outside of the room's doors, waiting in case you needed me, when suddenly I heard a shattering noise come from inside. By the time I reacted and opened the doors you were on the ground unconscious, with Christian standing over you. I asked him what had happened, but all he would do is stand there in silence and look at me." A chill ran down his spine as Randy remembered the cold and blank stare that Christian had shown him. "After I checked to make sure you were still alive I brought you here and paged Joyce to come check you out while I handled Christian."

Listening intently as his friend spoke Lewis took in every word, thought it over clearly, and posed those thoughts to the rest of his mind. Nothing that Randy said helped to ease the tension in Lewis' mind as his wonder about what happened grew. "What did you do with Christian?" he asked of his friend, believing that Randy's answer would determine his next course of action.

"I had one of the guards put his shackles back on him and stand guard while I came back here to check on you. He's still down the hall for the moment, but since he attacked you I think he should be placed back in isolation right away."

Concern was reflected in Randy's tone, and Lewis felt grateful that he had a friend that was so concerned with his well being. But he knew he couldn't let that concern get out of hand and end in doing something as brash as throwing Christian back into isolation so quickly. "I have to speak to him again. I have to know what he did to me." These statements were meant to be ones uttered only in the recesses of his mind, but without realizing it he said them aloud, catching the interest of both Joyce and Randy.

"Wait a second Terry," Randy suddenly said with a tone that was full of concern. "Christian attacked you. He may not have done any serious harm, but it was an attack nonetheless. I don't think you should go back in there and risk your well being just to hear the mutterings of a madman."

"Randy's right. There's no reason for you to go in there and risk yourself for nothing. Besides, while he may not have left any physical damage, who knows what kind of psychological trauma could have been caused by the whole incident."

Hearing these words Lewis laughed inward at them. _'If only she knew the trauma I was already suffering.' _He thought to himself. "It won't be a risk," Lewis found himself firmly saying and believing. "Besides, I have to." Lewis simply put as his eyes moved to meet Randy's. In the moment that their eyes locked Lewis conveyed to his friend the need he had for once more speaking with Christian. That need Randy already knew from before. It was a need that Lewis had harbored since Randy had first told him about Christian, a need that lay unfulfilled despite already being in the presence of the man once. Ultimately it was a need that Lewis could not, would not, feel satisfied about until after he was able to get some answers from the man.

"Terry, I think you need to get a proper perspective on this." Joyce said with her own concern as she looked over the man she had been called to treat. While she may not have had any special affinity for Lewis, she still would hate to see anything bad come to him. Because of this she was as adamant as possible that he stay away from Christian. It was a firmness that would have held to the last, and only ended up failing at the slight touch and gentle words of Randy.

"Joyce, let me talk to him for a bit. Alone."

Surprised by Randy's words she turned to look at him for a moment, and in that moment she saw something new and strange twinkle just behind his eyes. Something bigger then a simple faint was going on here, she could tell it by the way Randy looked at her if for nothing else. "Fine," she suddenly relented. "If either of you need me I'll be in room 'C3' with a patient." After looking over both the doctors once more she gave a small sigh before exiting the room.

Lewis' eyes watched as the female doctor made her way out of the small exam room and as the door closed behind her he gave out an exhale of relief. With only Randy and him left he felt like he could be honest about Christian and about what was going on. Moving his gaze back to his friend he simply said, "You know that I need to speak with him again, Randy. He has the answers I need."

"Are you sure?" Randy asked as he took a step forward and sat down next to Lewis on the rigid cot. "If he didn't give you the answers that you needed last time then what makes you so certain that he'll do so next time?"

Looking away from Randy and into his own calloused hands Lewis gave another sigh as his mind tried to think of the best words to say. "He might not have given me the answers that I was asking for, but he did give me enough to know that he is involved in this."

"Involved in what?" Randy asked earnestly, though after recent events he feared exactly what Lewis meant.

Getting up off of the cot Lewis paced across the small room for a moment, trying to decide for himself exactly what was going on and how he could tell of it to Randy. "This whole thing. This situation. This hell." Cursing at his inability to better label what was going on Lewis just looked at Randy, hoping that some how his eyes could convey the rest to his friend. "He's connected to Cassie in some way, and that connection is causing all of this."

"But how?" Randy pressed. "Christian was locked up in isolation since before Cassie was brought here and for the entirety of the ordeal. How could he even know about her, let alone have some connection?"

"I don't know!" Lewis shouted in frustration. When he saw his friend cringe at the reply he instantly regretted the harshness of his tone. "He knew about her though, Randy." Lewis said in a much softer tone. "He knew about her being here and that she had been murdered."

Despite his friend's words Randy still found it hard to believe that Christian knew so much. He supposed that the man could have overheard someone talking about Cassie and her gruesome demise, but for some reason he felt this wasn't the case. Only he and a handful of nurses had been allowed to be near Christian, and while he knew some of the nurses could be rather chatty, he doubted any of them would have told the man so much. So how had he known?

"There's something else," Lewis said with hesitation as his hands nervously rubbed each other and his feet continued in their pacing. "He mentioned the Red Demon. And he did so in a way identical to Cassie."

The only bit of information that Randy had on this so called Red Demon was what Lewis had told him after his experience with Cassie. While he had grown accustomed to the ravings of the insane and their sometimes vivid imaginations, he couldn't help but to get a chill at hearing Cassie's description of him. And if a second hand account from Lewis had been enough to send a chill down his spine, then he could only imagine what Lewis had felt taking it in firsthand.

"Randy," came the sudden name in a tone obviously filled with fear, "I have to figure out what's going on. Something big is happening here, something bigger than just me, or just Cassie and Christian, something even bigger than any simple demon. It's something I need to find out now, before…" Lewis' words failed him at that moment and he had to force down his emotions along with a great amount of saliva before finishing with the words, "it's too late."

Looking upon his friend and this horrible state that Lewis had fallen into Randy felt so much pity for him. He wanted to put a reassuring arm around Lewis and tell him that he was overreacting, that what was going on was far from anything that should be causing him such pain and such misery, but he knew those reassurances would be lies. From his peek into this hell Randy could tell that this situation was far from anything of the sane variety. While he may not have been as wrapped into it as Lewis he wasn't about to discourage his friend. For some reason he felt that if either of them were to lose their vigilance for even the briefest of moments then something new and even more terrifying would step until their lives and so would worsen their state.

Despite the knowledge that any words of reassurance would be in vain Randy felt that he needed to say something. He could not just sit there and play witness to the failing of Lewis' mind. Now he wished only to help his friend, even more so than he had wished in the past few weeks, yet he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. True he was a skilled psychologist, and had been tasked to help heal the mental state of Brookhaven's residents, but he had never thought the need would arise when he would have to apply those hard learned tactics to anyone still legally sane; especially not a friend as close as Lewis. With a sigh he relented to the idea, seeing that it could do no harm. "Terry, please sit down," he said as he gestured back to the cot, "and tell me what exactly Christian said to you."

Unsure of whether that was such a good idea Lewis paused for a moment and stared at his friend in hesitation. He didn't want to sit here and discuss his feelings with anyone. Not Joyce, not Randy, not anyone at all. All he wanted was to get back to Christian, get back to the conversation they were having before he had collapsed, and back to where he hoped answers lay in wait. Looking into his friend's eyes though he felt strangely compelled to fill this request. Slowly he let his tense muscles ease before he sat back down on the cot and took in a deep breath.

With his friend next to him, providing a meager feeling of safety, Lewis went over everything that he had been told by Christian before finally deciding to tell Randy. "He said that I have sinned Randy. A horrible and terrible sin and that this Red Demon is going to come and judge me for it soon."

Taking in these words Randy's first thoughts were about how difficult it had seemed for Lewis to tell them. To recount such details must truly have been a frightening concept to Lewis, and Randy felt bad for forcing him to recount them, but he knew it was necessary. If he was to be of any help at all to his friend then he needed to know everything that had happened. Having absorbed his friend's words he decided to add a few assuring words of his own. "You're a good man Terry," he said as he placed a hand on Lewis' shoulder. "Everyone has sinned, that's part of being human. But you are a good and kind soul. There is no way you could have done anything to incur such a judgment as you saw done upon Cassie."

"I want to believe you, to believe me, to believe everyone in this matter Randy, but I don't feel like I can. He said that my mind had buried knowledge of my sin deep within me, so deep that I'm not even aware of it anymore. I want to believe he was lying to me, but I just don't know."

Giving another sigh it suddenly hit Randy what had happened. Of course he should have seen this coming, as it had to be possible because it was so plausible. "Terry, he's gotten inside your head. Somehow he figured out just enough about you to slip in and torture you with whatever he can come up with. It's something that a lot of insane people tend to do, especially the criminally insane. You have to fight back though. You have to prove that you are better than that, because I know you are."

It made sense; certainly in any sane way at least. Yet Lewis still could not accept Randy's explanation as fact. Christian may have done nothing more than fill the stereotypical shoes of an insane man for the purpose of driving Lewis insane. Yes, from a sane perspective it did make sense, but in a place surrounded by insanity Lewis knew this was not the case. "You might be right," Lewis admitted to his friend with a sigh, "but I still feel that I need to speak with Christian again. To confirm your words if for nothing else."

Randy suddenly felt lost against his friend's unyielding resolve to have one more meeting with the mental patient. In the pit of his stomach he knew that for Lewis to speak with Christian again would be a bad idea, but in the face of his friend's resolve he couldn't help but to finally and begrudgingly relent. "Okay," he said with a hint of defeat to his tone. "You can speak with him again. He's still down in room 'M3', so it shouldn't be a problem for you to." Lewis started to stand up at these words, but Randy grabbed him by the arm for a moment and said, "First though, is there anything else that Christian said to you?"

Going over the encounter once more in his mind Lewis tried to determine if there was anything else that needed mentioning. "No," he started to say with a degree of hesitation as he made sure there wasn't anything else. He was about to stick with that answer, before something came to his mind. "Well there was something, something that he whispered just before I collapsed."

"What was that Terry?"

"He said a word; at least I think it was a word." Focusing his mind on that final word that Christian had uttered Lewis made sure that he had indeed heard the man correctly. "Husha," he suddenly blurted out, leaving Randy in a rather confused state for a few moments before Lewis finished the thought. "He said husha, several times in fact, before I collapsed and fell unconscious."

"Husha?" Randy asked with confusion, having no clue what this simple word could mean, if it had a meaning at all. When Lewis gave a nod to confirm that his friend had been right Randy couldn't help but to be even more confused. "Are you sure he didn't say hush up, Lewis? You know, so that you wouldn't call for help or something."

Again his friend presented him with a clear and logical answer for a bizarre piece of the insane puzzle he was part of. Shaking his head Lewis knew that again his friend's explanation wasn't meant to be the truth. "No, it was definitely husha. Whatever that means."

The younger doctor sat there thinking for a moment, but he had no better clue as to what the strange word meant than Lewis. It seemed familiar in that distant and vague sort of way that often drives you mad. Resigning to look it up later, Randy saw no further excuse for delaying their inevitable meeting with Christian. Standing up and smoothening his white doctor's coat for a moment he simply gestured to the door before Lewis took the lead and the two men entered Brookhaven's drab hallway.

Out of the small exam room and back into the dark hallway an odd sense of comfort came to Lewis. This hallway was familiar to him, as he had walked it many times throughout his tenure as psychologist here. It was in that sense of familiarity that came Lewis' odd comfort. With all the talk of demons and insanity Lewis felt relief in seeing this dull and unchanged hallway. For some reason knowing that some things would remain the same no matter what happened gave him this relief, and with it the courage to face the insanity of Christian once more.

When the pair's short walk down the hallway left them at the doors for room 'M3' Lewis reached for the handle and let out a deep exhale of emotion as he readied himself. Randy stepped forward to take the lead and Lewis found himself once more looking at his friend, feeling the need to remind him of how this task he must do alone. Picking up on this Randy said, "Last time I let you go in alone and he attacked you. Not this time my friend. I will not be left to feel helpless should he decide to attack you again." Feeling grateful for the genuine care that his friend showed him in this moment Lewis could do nothing but happily comply with a nod before the two entered the room.

Inside the room nothing had changed either. The walls still looked bare, the floor still was dirty, and Christian still seemed very ominous as he stood staring out the window. Exchanging a look between each other the two doctors stood there for a moment, not quite sure how to break the cold silence. Luckily for them it was Christian that spoke the first words; though how lucky that fact was debatable.

"Couldn't trust to be alone with me again Dr. Lewis?" An icy coldness ran through Christian's words as he spoke. Icy enough to cause a shiver to run down both Lewis' and Randy's spine.

"Christian I want you to tell me what is going on here," Lewis pleaded flatly. "I want you to tell me exactly how you knew about Cassie and how you managed to write that note."

"I have no wish to speak with Dr. Sampson, and nothing further to say to you Dr. Lewis," Christian stated over his shoulder as he refused to turn away from the window's view and towards the doctors.

Ignoring the question on how Christian knew that it was Randy that had accompanied him Lewis asked the question again. "Will you tell me what is going on here? Please Christian?" he asked with a new sense of desperation to his voice.

The moment that Lewis pleaded to this insane man for answers was the moment that Randy's tension over the matter grew. He wasn't sure whether his friend's sudden desperation was genuine or simply a ploy to gain sympathy and trust from the man before them. Whatever the case was, he felt it to be a bad call to appear weak before anyone as disturbed as Christian was. Lewis' sign of desperation, in Randy's opinion, would prove only to hinder their chance for answers and it in turned caused Randy to be even more anxious to leave than he already was.

There was a different reaction to Lewis' words though in their receiver. Ever slightly, Christian's lips curled into a grin. Hearing the pain and the anguish in Lewis' voice caused a bit of joy to enter into Christian's being. He relished in this man's pain, and as Lewis believed him to be the cause of at least part of that pain made Christian enjoy it even more. Turning halfway around his eyes locked with those of the doctor. In those eyes of Lewis' Christian saw the desperation to be true, and he smiled inwardly again for it.

"You would like me to stand here and connect the dots for you wouldn't you doctor?" Christian asked in an almost playful tone. "Go from A to B to C, until the picture is all drawn out for your understanding, right?" Still looking into Lewis' eyes Christian instantly found his answer, to which he responded with, "I won't do that Dr. Lewis. There would be no fun in it." He said before turning back around towards the dirt smeared window.

"Fun?" Lewis blurted out, upset at how Christian viewed his falling into insanity. Tightening his hand into a fist he tried to push the comment aside and try once more to get something out of this man. "The note Christian. Just tell me about the note. You said that you sent it as a warning, but how did you get it to me?"

"Did I say that I was the note's author? No. I just said that it was a warning, not that it was from me."

Whatever game that Christian had suddenly decided to play was growing very old very fast in Lewis' opinion. His patience agreed with him on this point. If Christian was unwilling to admit his responsibility for the note than maybe Lewis could get something else out of him. "How do you know about the Red Demon? About Cassie's murder?"

"Everyone knows about Him, Dr. Lewis. Some people though choose to deny His existence, thus forcing Him to become invisible in their minds and so their eyes. This though is helpful as it allows Him to complete His work without notice."

Stepping forward Lewis continued his questioning. "The sin, my sin, what is it? What did I do to warrant his attention all of a sudden?"

"Your sin is a most despicable one that you shall undoubtedly be forever damned for," Christian said with disgust as he turned back to face Lewis. "It is a sin that has tainted your soul for many years, and when you face Him you should thank Him that He has let you live for all these years in a veil of innocence."

Patience failing, rage boiling up inside, and frustration at Christian's evasiveness consuming him, Lewis lost control. He had lost control twice recently, once to Officer Simmons and once to his friend Randy, but neither of those previous instances could compare to this moment. Consumed by all of the insanity that he had forced away as of late Lewis moved to stand before Christian, grabbed the man with his right arm, and pressed him against the wall, all in such a swift motion that Christian had been left no time to react.

"You will tell me what I need to know, NOW!" Lewis insanely shouted at Christian in a tone full of rage. Sweat and a lack of proper bathing left the man's throat slimy underneath the grip of his hand, but he ignored it. After having to put up with Cassie's death and every other insane tidbit that followed Lewis had been left with little reason to care about such things as this antagonist's well being any more. All he cared about now was what he desired, and all he desired was an end to the insanity.

"Terry!" Randy shouted as his friend's sudden actions forced him to step into the situation he had played witness to. Grabbing onto Lewis' free arm he tried to pull his friend away from his victim. "He's not worth it Terry!" Randy almost shouted as Lewis stood there, unmoving in both his resolve and his body.

"Go ahead, kill me," Christian dared with cold eyes and an arrogant tone that caused his words to wash over Randy's. "Set my soul free from this place. Let your hands be coated with my blood and your damnation be further assured."

Tightening his grip for a moment Lewis could feel Christian's breath shortening, though his face gave no sign of panic. In that moment Lewis' mind saw Christian as the sole cause for his hell, and in this belief came the thought that with bringing Christian's life to an end would also bring about an end to his hell. Something though, some buried and nearly forgotten fragment of sanity took hold of Lewis. That something fought back the insanity that consumed Lewis in that moment and suddenly he realized the magnitude of what he was doing and the horror of what he was about to become. Letting go of Christian he stumbled towards the door, not willing to lay his eyes upon either the bringer of insanity or his friend. That stumble pushed him through the room's doors and left him collapsed against a nearby wall where his head fell into his hands and he quietly sobbed.

Randy soon followed him, dispensing comforting words and reassurances that Christian would not be a bother to him again. It didn't matter though. Nothing at all really mattered. None of it mattered in that moment to Lewis as all he could do was sit there and pray that salvation from this hell was still possible.


	7. Ch 7

_Chapter Seven_

Christian was gone. After Lewis' last encounter with the man it had been decided to immediately lock Christian back up in the isolation ward. That decision had made it impossible for Lewis to see him again, to talk to him again, to try another vain effort to get anything useful from him. Being out of the realm of possibility now made the madman distant to the doctor; effectively gone.

Sitting there in thought Lewis figured he should be counted as lucky. Lucky in the fact that Randy had decided not to tell anyone else about his sudden outburst towards Christian, an outburst that nearly ended the man's life. His friend could have easily reported the occurrence to any number of administrators. That report would have cost Lewis his license, his reputation, and probably the last iota of sanity that he still had left in his being. Knowing of this cost Randy had withheld the fact that Lewis had attacked a patient, something Lewis never imagined he would find himself doing.

To Randy, Lewis was a lost friend who needed to be led back home. He knew his friend to be suffering untold amounts of stress, and attributed his irrational behavior to that stress. Lewis just needed another chance, a new and fresh chance, to put this whole matter behind him. In his heart Randy knew that this was all his friend needed.

That practical belief though fell from truth once Lewis took it into consideration. He wanted to simply put the whole matter behind him, desperately so, but somehow that didn't seem to be attainable. Something was enjoying watching him suffer as his mind slowly went insane. This Lewis now felt to be the truth. Who or what that something was he had no way to be sure. It could have been Cassie's ghost, or Christian, or hell even the Red Demon that both had so terrifyingly talked about. Either way it didn't matter. It didn't matter who was doing this to him, nor did it really matter why, all that did matter was that they were doing it; and that he couldn't stop them.

Tired. That was the thought that made its way into his mind. He was tired of dealing with the whole situation that had been thrust upon him by Cassie's death. Everything since had been so draining to him, and painful. Mentally, emotionally, and thanks to Christian, physically painful. He had hoped that by talking to Christian he would be able to find an end to his pain. That end had been denied to him though, and in fact only more pain had come to him as a result of his encounter with the madman. If he could not end the pain then there was only one thing to do in his mind. He had to dull the pain, make himself numb to it in some way. That was why he had his friend here next to him. His long lost friend that had helped get him through the rough times during his first, brief marriage.

Just out of college and obsessed with trying to make a name for himself, he and his young bride had moved to the big city. For months his life was consumed by work in the hopes that it would lead to his dream job of psychologist. As happens in life though, nothing turned out as he had planned. Instead of moving up on the psychiatric ladder he had been forced to remain content on the bottom rung. Unable to find the satisfying career he longed for in the big city he decided to scale his plans back some, to let his career grow in a smaller and less competitive environment. This had led him to this quiet little town; Silent Hill. Here at Brookhaven he had been given the chance he had always wanted, the chance to make a difference. Unfortunately Felecia hadn't felt the same way.

Thoughts of his ruined and long passed marriage pushed his hand to embrace that faithful friend. The friend that had stuck by him through all of the horrible moments of his life before, and remained even now in the face of his new despair. Yes, this was his true friend. The friend that didn't judge him, always comforted him, and would be there for as long as he needed it. On that note Lewis took another gulp of the stuff.

Leaning back into his chair he stared out the window and simply relaxed as his friend worked its way through his system. Outside the world was as dreary as Lewis felt inside. A faint wisp of fog was moving its way through the town air and a bitter chill was settling in with the promise of winter. There were no trees within view, nor any sign of the colorful changes they were undergoing. This fact brought a touch of sadness to Lewis, but that sadness was very brief and quickly washed over him. A few bright colors may have been enough to make him feel more at ease, but he knew that after everything he had seen and been through lately that ease would be fleeting; and ultimately worthless.

Bringing the glass to his lips once again he held it there for a moment in anticipation of more of the burning liquid, but none came. Glancing at it he saw it to be empty. Without giving it a second thought he reached back to his desk and brought the liquid's container out to refill his glass. Something stopped him though.

Sitting there and staring at the glass he saw his reflection in the crystal surface. What he saw though was not the same person that he pictured inside his mind. His mind tended to lean on the well rounded and dependable individual he had grown into. Upon the glass' surface though a very different man was shown. The man that shown back was a man on the edge of sanity, on the edge of caring, and surely on the edge of life itself. To Lewis that man was his true demon, a demon he had thought was long gone. Giving way to an exhale of breath and a rise of emotions Lewis knew that he could not allow himself to become that worthless man that was born from Felecia's abandonment of him.

"_You have to fight back though. You have to prove that you are better than that, because I know you are." _replayed his friend's words in his mind.

Those words were right, and Lewis knew it. He had fallen to the bottom once before and survived, and it was something that he knew he couldn't allow to happen again. Placing the bottle back in the desk drawer Lewis stood from his chair. After he gave his white doctor's coat a tug and ran his fingers through his graying strands of hair Lewis felt ready, or at least as ready as he could be. With this firm new sense to him he felt that he would actually be able to put everything behind him and move forward in his life, and back to his career. Making his way through the doors and out of the room he paused for only a moment, hoping that he would be right.

Out in the hallway Lewis took in a breath as he felt his burden being left behind him. Normally leaving his office would instill a sort of panic, a sort of fear into him. To Lewis his office had become his sanctuary. It was the last place in the darkening world where he felt truly safe from the recent horrors of life. That might not have been the case, but to his mind it had been. And as a result he had left that realm of safety as little as possible.

Now, out in the hallway and out of his office, something different came over him. His frame of mind hadn't changed completely, but it did seem to be less bothersome. It truly felt as though a weight had been lifted off him, though in reality he had just buried it further back into his mind. Back there it wouldn't bother him, and if it didn't bother him then why should he care whether it was still there or not?

Making his way down the hall he passed by two nurses. As of recent he would keep his eyes low to the ground and would rush passed anyone without so much as a word. Feeling now though to be slipping back out of the frightening chaos he had been trapped in he felt the need to acknowledge the pair of women that approached. Giving a nod and even braving a slight smile he passed the pair, and in return was rewarded with smiles from both of them. Sensing not only that he was happy, but also that his presence could make those around him happy, left Lewis with a truly wonderful feeling and as he stepped into the elevator he couldn't help but to flash another slight grin.

Once the elevator slowed and reached its final destination on the first floor Lewis stepped out with that slight joy still noticeable within himself. Keeping his mind away from Christian and solely on his work he made his way down the gray hallway and through the double doors that led to the hospital's main lobby. Passed those doors a rush of sterile air hit Lewis' nose, yet he didn't seem to mind it at all. For some reason he welcomed that stale yet familiar scent as it wafted towards him. His enjoyment of the scent undoubtedly came from the same enjoyment he had felt in the hallways before his last encounter with Christian; familiarity. To him familiarity meant comfort, and Lewis needed all the comfort he could get his hands on.

Passing by the hospital's janitor as the man was busy wiping down the floor Lewis gave a slight nod to show the man his appreciation before entering the reception office.

Inside the first thing that caught his eye was the blonde hair of the assistant as she busied herself typing something up on a computer. Walking over to her desk Lewis tried make himself feel as calm and look as normal as one could be in a mental hospital. "Hello Leslie," he said to the young woman in a pleasant tone that seemed out of place coming from him. "Do you have my work order for today?"

"Dr. Lewis," she suddenly responded as her attention was torn from the computer screen and placed onto the doctor. "Yeah I think it's right over…" Pausing for a moment and extending her last word she turned her chair around and sifted through a pile of papers before finding the one that Lewis needed. "Here it is doctor," she said with a smile as she handed it to him.

Taking the paper in his hands he heard Leslie further say "You only have two visitations today. One with Dana Stenson and the other with Gary Bertram."

When Lewis heard the second name come from Leslie he nearly dropped the paper. "Gary Bertram?" he repeated the name with a questioning tone. After a nod came from Leslie and confirmed to the doctor that he had heard right he couldn't help but to blurt out, "But I thought Keith was taking care of him."

"Dr. Brennerd has been filling in for you on Gary's case, he never took it over. It was just a temporary thing until the administrators thought you had recovered enough from Cassie's death to handle dealing with an S level patient."

"And they think I've recovered now?"

"Well, your behavior lately has seemed to be more on the bright side. Plus, if you are well enough to help Dr. Sampson with a patient then the administrators figure you to be well enough to handle Gary again."

At hearing this Lewis' heart sank. When he had convinced his friend to setup the meeting between himself and Christian he never expected it to come back and manifest such a result. Like everyone else on the third floor Gary was completely insane to a truly frightening point. Since Cassie's death Lewis had wanted to deal solely with the more docile of his patients. To achieve that wish he had used his emotions after Cassie's death to convince everyone that he couldn't handle dealing with someone on that deep of a level of insanity. In appearing to go out of his way to help a fellow doctor it seemed to everyone else though that Lewis had finally recovered.

Recovered. What a laughable concept. Outwardly he might seem back to his usual old self, but deep down he knew that he was far from recovered. His last experience with Christian had proven that. The last experience in which he had let his emotions and his insanity push him into attacking the man and nearly killing him. No, he had not recovered from Cassie's death at all. Still though, he knew if he were to ever recover then it would come only out of considerable effort.

"Is that all?" Lewis asked with hesitation as he drew himself back to reality.

"That's it doctor." Leslie replied with a smile before turning back to her work.

Muttering a thank you and letting out a sigh Lewis trudged his way out of the small office and back out into the quiet hallway.

As he made his way back to the elevator a chill ran down his spine. Brookhaven's third floor was home to the most violent, most chaotic, and most disturbed people that Silent Hill offered. Anyone with a sane mind would be overcome with terror moments after stepping onto the floor, yet the hospital's staff was expected to carry on as though nothing was different. Going through years of classes and training was supposed to prepare one for that kind of situation. Even with all of that training behind them many still felt that they lacked what it took to deal with such insanity.

At one point Lewis had felt confident in himself to take this challenge without fear; without noticeable fear at least. That confidence had allowed him to take on cases that many other doctors were wary of, like Gary and Cassie, and as such his respect and position here had quickly risen. A strong sense of pride had come from that accomplishment. It was that pride, Lewis believed, that had allowed him to regain his firm grip on life and ease the demons which he once harbored.

With Cassie's death however that confidence had been shattered. That confidence had acted as a barrier. One that had reinforced his mind and his own sanity so that it would not fall prey to the raving patients he treated. Since the scene of Cassie's murdered corpse graced his eyes Lewis had felt unable to come before any of his S patients and walk away with his sanity intact. Recent events had shown him that he didn't need any of these patients for him to fall from sanity's fragile graces. He had fallen anyway.

Both with his ears and his sense he could tell the elevator to be slowing down as it approached the third floor. An ache came to his knees and for a moment he thought they might give out under him. Instead though the pain lessened as Lewis chided himself. He was a man in his late forties and one with extensive training and preparation in dealing with the mentally ill. To let them terrify him so easily was nothing but childish stupidity. It didn't matter that a series of mysterious and terrifying events had rested into his life as of late, he was still a trained psychologist. A psychologist with a job to do, and one he intended on doing.

The moment the doors opened was a moment that almost caused Lewis to go back on every thought he had just had. Giving way to the hospital's third floor the elevator doors had invited a series of strange and unfocused yells. Some were made of words and could at least to their owners make sense. Others were little more than senseless shouts and other indiscernible noises. Despite his courage Lewis couldn't help but to swallow hard on a few drops of saliva before stepping off of the elevator.

Quickly passing the floor's guard Lewis made his way down the long and eerily dark hallway. Gary had been placed in room S14, the last room at the hallway's end. Having to pass by each room and having to hear the ravings of nearly every patient on the floor did nothing to ease Lewis' tension about once more being on the hospital's worst floor. _'The last time I was here on this floor was when Cassie was murdered.' _ran through his mind. That thought did nothing to help him either. Still though, he managed to some how ignore the sounds around him and hold together his fragile sanity just long enough to reach the hallway's end.

In the moments that he actually entered the tiny room Lewis found himself to truly be in doubt whether he could face such insanity again. Knowing that it was far too late for misgivings and that nothing held him back from the threshold he stepped forward, took in the sight of Gary and the surrounding room, and simply drew in a deep breath as he closed the door behind him.

Gary sat there on the bed and just stared at Lewis. Being one of the more violent patients at Brookhaven had forced the hospital's staff to bring a harsher existence onto the man. Unlike many of the other patients Gary was not bound by metal shackles, but was instead placed in a fully binding straight jacket. In addition to the jacket a metal chain had been fastened around the bed frame and to the jacket's back. The idea was to give him as little mobility as possible, and therefore as little chance to harm anyone as possible. It was a pitiful existence, one that Lewis did not envy this man for having, yet some how he knew it was necessary.

"Doctor Lewis?" Gary asked with wide eyes as he stared at Lewis

"Hello Gary," Lewis calmly greeted as he sat down in the room's chair.

"Where's Doctor Brennerd?" he excitedly asked.

"Doctor Brennerd is done filling in for me here Gary. It looks like you and I get to be spending some more time together."

"Oh okay then." With that statement hanging in the air Gary's eyes darted back and forth and his pink tongue flicked out every now and then to glisten his lips with saliva.

"So, how have you been Gary? It's been a while since you and I talked." Lewis said as he tried his best to make the conversation appear as normal as possible. Normally a doctor would use this approach to make the patient feel comfortable, but in this case it was the doctor that needed the comforting.

"Didn't Dr. Brennerd tell you how I was? Don't you doctors go over everything like that? Shouldn't you have already known?" Gary's words were spit out so quickly that they blurred together and anyone who wasn't paying close attention would have thought they made no sense at all.

"No Gary," Lewis said calmly and slowly, "he didn't tell me. Why don't you tell me though?"

"Hmm that seems mighty odd. Yep, mighty odd indeed. I thought all the doctors told each other everything. I thought you enjoyed getting together in your quite little rooms. Laughing at the poor misfortunes of the people you've locked away." Suddenly Gary's eyes narrowed and something new showed across his face before he suddenly yelled out "You do don't you! You and your holier than thou attitudes! You're the ones that are sick! Not us!"

Ignoring Gary's words and his attitude Lewis calmly tried again. "How have you been Gary?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"That's why I asked Gary."

"Well I won't tell! I'll never tell!" As Gary's words continued his agitation grew and he began to squirm and pull at the white straight jacket in an obvious attempt to break free. "You are all in it together! You all want to take her away from me! Take her away! My poor Louise!"

With a sigh Lewis was sucked down into Gary's world and once more became familiar with this man's delusions. "We've been over this a hundred times before Gary," he said as his calm demeanor began to crumble against quickly mounting frustration. "Louise died in that car wreck seven years ago. She's gone Gary."

"NO!" the mental patient screamed as he dove towards the doctor. The slack metal chain suddenly tightened and held the man away from his would be victim. Struggling to break free of the chain he leaned forward as far as he could, coming uncomfortably close to Lewis' face. "You're lying! You want to take her away from me and keep her for yourself! She's not a thing that you can just have your way with! She's mine! She's mine to take care of! You can't have her! I have to take care of her forever! I have to! It's my destiny!"

Inching back and looking forward towards the insane man as he seethed made Lewis fully remember what it was like to deal with Brookhaven's worst. These patients were so delusional, so far gone and lost to the sane world that it was amazing that some people actually believed they could be cured. Little progress had been achieved between him and Gary before, and he imagined that Dr. Brennerd had had no better luck. It truly was a sad thing that people got this way; fell so far away from the edge. Lewis didn't even think for a moment about how he must have appeared much the same way when he had attacked Christian. Instead he just gave his doctor's coat and tug and resigned to the fact that nothing further could be done with the man today.

"I'm going Gary." Lewis said firmly as he edged his way from the chair to the door. "I'll come back in a little while and check on you. Maybe then we can chat about a few things."

"Liar! You horrible, filthy liar!" Gary continued to shout as Lewis slipped his way out of the room. "Your soul is damned Dr. Lewis, not mine!" The door clicked shut after that.

Even though Lewis' attention had been focused outward he had still managed to hear Gary's final words. Standing there in the third floor hallway his mind drifted away and suddenly Christian's voice was heard inside his skull.

_Your sin is a most despicable one that you shall undoubtedly be forever damned for._

With a shiver he tried to put the words of both men out of his mind and out of his being. He could not let himself fall victim to their insane ranting. No matter what happened he knew he needed to hold firmly to his loose grasp on sanity. He would not let himself fall again; no matter what.

Letting his mind return to his body and finding himself still outside of Gary's room and still on the hospital's third floor a sense of panic found its way into him. He had to get off this floor. It was something he felt suddenly compelled to do, fearing that if he didn't then he would soon be locked away into a cramped room of his own.

Rushing passed the guard again Lewis tapped on the elevator call button. Its doors did not open however, and its response to his press came in the form of a blinking '2' right above the door's entrance. Frantically he tapped the button several more times with his index finger, as though this action mattered.

"Something wrong Dr. Lewis?" the nearby guard asked as he took notice of Lewis' button smashing.

"Just in a bit of a rush to get work out of the way," Lewis replied with a weak smile. He was in a rush alright, but it wasn't to finish his work. His rush was simply to get off of the floor and as far away from its disturbed residents as possible.

The guard took Lewis' excuse as sincere and shrugged off any feelings to the contrary. Thankfully before any more terrors found their way to Lewis the small elevator's doors opened and he stepped inside. Once the doors closed he let out a sigh of relief and let a newfound sense of safety wrap itself around him.

Slowly the elevator began its descent to the first floor where Lewis' other patient was kept. The thought of seeing Dana again came with a strange calming effect that Lewis could not immediately identify. For some reason he enjoyed visiting her over most of his other patients. That reason he assumed was due to the fact that she was one of the more mild patients locked away at Brookhaven. It made sense, yet for some reason he didn't feel that to be the whole of it.

When he reached Dana's room of C2 he placed on himself a strange thing; a smile. He knew that because of her condition Dana was very sensitive to the emotions of others, and would often reflect the same as whatever she saw in people. Dana was a happy woman by nature, but everyone can become sad or angry within the blink of an eye. Especially in a place like Brookhaven. Letting his muscles relax and his tension ease he opened the door and stepped inside.

Everywhere inside the room Lewis took in the sight of sheets of paper as they fluttered in response to an open window. The breeze that danced its way into the drab room was that of a cool autumn's day. A breeze that one enjoyed despite the chill it often caused when over exposed to it. In the center of the sea of papers laid Dana, who had her attention focused onto a fresh sheet as a number of crayons were strewn about her.

Lewis stood there for a moment and took the sight in. Here was a woman in her late twenties that enjoyed nothing more than drawing pictures with a box of crayons. In a sane world she would have her own children to do that while she was off in the depressing and monotonous realm of adulthood. Instead though by some cruel twist she had more or less been given what some people wished for all of their life; to remain forever young. Forever young in that perfect innocent sense that one truly missed in adulthood. Looking at Dana and the sweet child-like way of her made Lewis smile, and he almost hated to interrupt her. Still though he cleared his throat and tore the young woman's attention from her latest masterpiece.

Moving her gaze from the drawing to the doctor a wide grin suddenly appeared on the woman's face. "Dr. Lewis!" she shouted as she clambered up from her laying position. Once she was on her feet she rushed across the room and threw her arms around the doctor in a big hug.

"Hello Dana." Lewis replied as he nervously patted Dana's back. It felt odd to him to have the young woman be in his arms like that. Still though, to her she was no more than six years old, and in that respect her behavior was perfectly normal. For that reason he indulged her, hoping that by doing so would calm any ill feelings she had and keep her in this happy state.

"I missed you Dr. Lewis," she said as she pulled away and looked into his eyes. The body may have been that of an adult, but looking back at the woman Lewis clearly saw her eyes to be that of a child. "Where have you been all this time doctor?"

During his short period of dealing with Christian and the note Lewis had made several excuses not to visit any of his patients. This had left him able to be holed up inside his office with only stacks of file work to demand his attention. He had never thought this action to be a problem to any of his patients. All of them he believed would hold a reaction similar to that of Gary's and simply not care. When it came to Dana though he should have known better. She was special.

"I was sick Dana," was the only reply he could come up with. How else could he explain what had recently occurred in his life to someone that saw the world in such a big and beautiful light?

"Oh," she quietly said. "But you're better now?"

"Yes I am," Lewis said with a smile. There was a pause for a moment as the woman looked him over, making sure that he was indeed all right. Trying to decide where to go from there Lewis gestured towards some of the drawings. "Have you been busy drawing again?"

"Yes! Oh yes I have!" Dana said as her worry over him quickly dissolved away to the newfound joy at his mention of her work. "Come and look!" she added as she pulled him towards where several were strewn about.

Staring down at the pieces of artwork Lewis found himself draw in a silent breath of air as he took each of them in. While Dana might have had the mind of a child she clearly had the talent of an adult. Her artwork was stunning to Lewis' eyes, and seeing each piece as it carelessly lay upon the dirtied hospital floor did nothing but make the situation that much more sad to him.

The talent of an adult shown in each of these, but Dana's child mind also came through in the subject matter. There were drawings of flowers, of butterflies, of various other sorts of wildlife and aspects of nature. In a few of them there was even a little blonde haired girl that Lewis knew to be Dana's sister. Seeing those once again made him feel sad towards the situation she was in. Several times Dana had mentioned games that her and her sister played, and always she did so with a touch of sadness that reflected how much she missed those chances to just enjoy her sister's company. Lewis grew even more depressed about it whenever he reminded himself that Dana's sister was now across the country with her own children to raise and her own life to live. A life without her childish sister that so desperately missed her.

"Here you go doctor," Dana suddenly said as she bent over and picked a drawing off the ground.

In the drawing there was a gray ball of fur with two points on top and a friendly looking face. "That's a really nice drawing," Lewis said with a smile.

"You really think so doctor? It's a cat. I named him Oscar."

"Oh?" he asked with interest. "And what does Oscar like to do, chase butterflies?"

"No," Dana replied with a giggle. "He's a lazy cat. He just likes to lay around all day."

"Oh I see."

"Do you really like it though?" The look in the woman's eyes as she looked back at the doctor was one of those innocent ones that children often wore. It didn't quite seem to fit on her adult face.

"Yes I do Dana. I think it's one of your best."

"Thanks doctor," she replied with a blush. Smiling back at the woman Lewis began to hand the drawing to her. Pushing his hand away she said "No doctor, I want you to have it."

Not quite sure what to say he just looked down at the picture once more before returning his gaze to Dana. "Thanks," he said with the first genuine smile and the first stirrings of happiness that he had had in awhile.

Returning Lewis' smile with one of her own she left the man to stand there as she bound her way back to where Lewis had found her. Laying back down on her stomach she picked up a stray crayon and went back to work on her latest masterpiece.

Sitting down in a chair in front of her and carefully laying the drawing on his lap he watched her for a moment, enjoying the carefree way about her. Wetting his lips he decided to get on with his job. "How have you been, Dana?" came the standard question.

"I'm good," she casually said, leaving most of her attention to rest on her work. "My momma came and gave me a new box of crayons."

"Oh, and did that make you happy?"

"Very much. I love my momma; I just wish I could go home with her," she said with a slight bit of sadness.

"I know you do, but you're still sick."

"Yeah, that's what momma says too."

Feeling a little sorry for Dana and for her being in this situation, Dr. Lewis decided to try and push her into seeing what was really going on. "Dana, what do you remember doing before coming to Brookhaven."

"Playing with my sister Sherri," Dana absentmindedly said as she kept on drawing.

"What else?" he furthered. From her file Lewis knew that her condition had set in somewhere around the age of fifteen. With that in mind he hoped to tap into a teenage memory that surely lay buried somewhere deep within her mind. If he could bring that memory to the surface then maybe there was a chance he could make Dana see what truly was going on with her.

"Meadows. Meadows and lots of pretty flowers."

"And how old were you when you went to the meadows?"

"I was five years old. It was last year, right before I got sick."

"Dana, you've been here for five years now. It couldn't have been last year."

"No…" Her word trailed off and so with it the last bits of her attention, leaving Lewis in his own world to try and think of some other way to approach the problem.

Sitting there and looking at the carefree Dana and at how happy she was there almost didn't seem to be a point to all of this therapy. If she was happy then why not just leave her that way? That might have been a valid question, but deep down Lewis knew the world didn't work like that. Everyone had to be a useful and productive member of society; that was the unspoken rule. If anyone ever showed the slightest bit of difference in any way then they were always labeled and tossed away until proper treatment could be given to them. It was a sad concept in a sad world, but sitting there Lewis tried not to let it overwhelm him as he thought about what to do next.

As the time passed neither Lewis nor Dana moved from where they were or what they were doing. On the ground Dana still laid as she drew picture after picture while Lewis just sat there and stared at her. There was a calming silence in there air and a cool breeze that still wafted in through the room's window. These elements mixed with the fatigue that Lewis was feeling after having to spend so many recent nights without sound sleep. Slowly his mind began to drift off and his head nodded in response.

"_No! Please don't!" a voice suddenly screamed._

Jolting up in his seat Lewis looked around the room for a few moments before turning to Dana, who still peacefully was drawing. A few beads of sweat found themselves on Lewis' forehead and his heart slowly began to calm back down. "Dana, did you say something?" he asked, hoping that for some reason the chilling scream had suddenly come from her.

"Nope," her child voice responded without pausing for even a moment in her drawing.

Shrugging off the moment as a delusion of his tired mind he decided to focus back on Dana and his job. There had to be something more here, he felt it, yet he had no clue as to what that something might be.

"_Please, stop!" the voice screamed again, this time with noticeable tears._

When he heard the scream again Lewis abruptly stood up from his chair, knocking it over in the process. With a loud crash the chair tumbled to the ground, but Lewis was completely oblivious to the noise. Shaken by the scream's sudden reappearance he just stood there, not quite sure what was going on.

"Dr. Lewis?" Dana asked with a trembling voice, obviously scared herself by the crash of Lewis' chair.

Pulling himself back into the sane world for a moment he looked at Dana with sorrow. "I have to go," he said with only a part of himself behind those words. "I'll come back in a little bit to check on you," he added before turning and making his way out of the room.

In the dark hallway outside Lewis leaned against the wall and ran his free hand through his hair with a sigh. It appeared that with the scream coming to his ears a second time, a fully conscious time that it was something he had not simply imagined. With that thought in mind he couldn't help but to ask himself the terrifying question that was becoming all too familiar; _What the hell is going on?_


	8. Ch 8

_Chapter Eight_

With a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a manilla file folder tucked under his arm with his free hand, Lewis made his way down the gray walled hallways of Brookhaven Hospital. Despite a dreary layer of fog that had coated the town, he was determined to keep his spirits as high as he could. Deep down he knew that it wasn't a bit of unpleasant weather that would cause his spirits to falter. No, there was something much more frightening and bothersome that existed only to torment the Brookhaven doctor's soul.

After his visit with Dana the day before Lewis had once again felt very shaken by what had happened. The screams that had come from somewhere deep in his mind had haunted him for several hours after the fact as he tried to figure out exactly why he had heard such things. From what he could tell there was no pattern to the chilling events that had entered into his life in the wake of Cassie's death. Nothing seemed to connect to each other, at least not in a way that was instantly apparent. Though a part of him thought upon the screams with understandable fear, he had decided to not let this or anything else bother him. Obviously, his mind had become so wrapped up and involved in the girl's unexplainable death that it was now fabricating whatever it will to further torment his soul and remind him of the guilt he felt for not paying closer attention to Cassie's terrified words. Believing that it was now his mind behind the whole ordeal, jumping to conclusions and making childish assumptions, made it easier to be pushed to the back of Lewis' mind.

Having a fresh stack of work certainly helped too. While an oversupply of work seldom seemed to bring comfort to anyone, it did to Lewis. It gave him something to focus his attention on, something to distract him away from anything that might hold a wisp of insanity to it. For this reason alone he was able to wear a slight smile as he traveled the hospital's grim hallways.

On his way back to his office Lewis went over in his mind what needed to be done. Usually his work load was light enough that he could easily remember what needed to be done on a given day; although he was no stranger to post-it notes. Lately though, it had been increasingly difficult to concentrate on his work, or anything other than the string of odd occurrences that had forced their way into his life. He realized that such things would bring attention out of anyone, but he didn't want it to be from him. There were just too many sane things that needed his attention right now to bother with mysterious notes and unexplainable deaths. That and the fact that he didn't want to bother with them; ever again.

Turning around the corner Lewis took note of several doctors who were standing in the hallway; talking over some matter amongst themselves while sipping on their own steaming cups. Even though these men were his colleagues, and his tenure at Brookhaven had earned their respect, he still felt some apprehension about approaching them. Recent events had forced some paranoia into him, and he couldn't seem to get over it. For this reason he decided to move on pass the doctors, giving only a smile and a gesture of acknowledgment towards them with his cup of coffee. While his intent may have been to move by them without notice, that certainly would not be the case.

"Hey Terry," one of the doctors said as he turned away from the group and caught Dr. Lewis' attention.

"Keith," Lewis curtly replied, trying to be brief yet still not rude.

"I just wanted to ask," Dr. Brennerd started, noticing Lewis' file folder in hand and not wanting to take up any of the man's valuable time, "if you had some time to sit down and compare notes on Gary Bertram."

"Gary? For what reason?" The man's name struck something within Lewis and he immediately seized up at it. At the moment a patient like Gary symbolized insanity and everything currently wrong with his life. As such, he wanted to give them as little of his thoughts as possible.

"Well," Brennerd started with a hesitation, trying to think for a moment and not cause Lewis anymore undue work. "I just thought that a fresh perspective might help in your diagnosis of Gary. Maybe there was something that I was able to catch in my time evaluating him that you might have missed."

Scratching the back of his head Lewis thought about it for a moment. Dr. Brennerd's offer did seem to make sense, which was something that was starting to occur less and less in Lewis' life. Staring back with intent eyes Lewis simply said "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea Keith. Let me check on my schedule and get back to you." A silent moment passed between the two before, feeling satisfied about the situation, Lewis turned around and headed back down the hallway; leaving Brennerd to only stand there in wonder about what could be troubling the man.

Approaching his office Lewis couldn't help but give a fleeting thought back to Gary and his visit with the man the previous day. In the wake of so much involving Cassie's death and his encounter with Christian the last thing he needed was more time spent towards a man that followed suite in causing him such emotional and mental hell. Even though Keith was trying to be helpful, the opposite was bound to happen. A discussion on Gary was bound to do only one thing for Lewis, cause more strife. Despite the fact that a wave of misgivings rested in him, Lewis decided to push Gary and everything else to the deepest part of his mind. There was just too much for him to work on to do otherwise. Besides, come the end of the day worrying about it would do nothing but cause him pain.

Reaching for his door's brass knob Lewis took in a deep breath, having finally felt beyond all of the pain and grief caused by the mention of Gary's name. There was a point that he was slowly trying to come to terms with in his mind. Cassie was dead. Christian was locked back away in isolation. And he was done with Gary for the time being. Letting himself accept these simple things was the only way that he would be able to keep enough of his sanity intact to move on with his life. This he knew to be one of the few truths left in his life. Opening the door before him he let that one fact to be the only thing on his mind. Then, he stepped through the doorway, and everything changed once again.

From the moment Lewis placed one fateful step over the door's threshold then the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A strong sense of déjà vu came over him, although he couldn't immediately understand why. Looking around his office he searched for why a chill had run down his spine. Trying not to lose any bit of the calm demeanor he had finally rested upon only moments earlier, Lewis tried to get a grip on his feeling. The more ticks that fell away from the clock then the harder it became to keep his panic in check. Finally pushing his stubborn legs forward Lewis tried to shrug off the rush of ill feelings as he approached his desk. It was there that his déjà vu came full circle and he understood his chill's cause.

Gently placing the manilla file folder down on his desk, Lewis kept his eyes fixed on the mysterious book that had found its way into his life. Standing there with empty hands he wondered to himself what should be done next. Should he pick up the book and try to figure out its purpose? Or, believing it to be the latest demon to come into his life, should he try to ignore it all together? Somehow he knew that the latter would be impossible for him, and with a strong inhale, he reached for it.

Placing a hand on the book and slowly lifting it from his wooden desk Lewis began to take in every facet of the book. His attention had so instantly been absorbed by the book that he had failed to notice the envelope that had been placed alongside it. Brushing the envelope onto the floor, Lewis nearly jumped out of his skin as it tumbled and finally rested against his leg. Getting a grip on his nerves, Lewis slowly bent down to pick up the paper, leaving one eye to stare relentlessly at the book currently gripped in his right hand. With his left he picked up the small white envelope, and seeing the handwriting which had scrawled Lewis' name across its surface, he decided to exhale his stale breath as he realized from whom this book had come.

Carrying both the envelope and the book Lewis walked around his desk where he found his comfortable leather chair waiting for him. Easing into the office chair he studied the book's every detail. Instantly he could tell it to be an old book. The yellowed pages and the faint coating of dust gave that part about the book's identity away. Turning it over in his hand he looked at the thick jade coloring to the book's cover, wondering why it had shown up on his desk. Having examined every part of the book's exterior except the front, the Brookhaven doctor finally decided upon reading the book's title.

_The History of Silent Hill: Pre-Colonial _had been emblazoned upon the book's surface in bright gold lettering. Letting the title sink in for a moment Lewis wondered how this latest piece would fit into the overall nightmarish puzzle he was playing in as a pawn. Of course, the reason for this book could have been something completely unrelated to Cassie or the subsequent events in the wake of her death. Deep down though he knew this wasn't the case, as everything of recent had to relate back to that horrible incident in one sense or another.

It was at this point that Lewis' attention drifted back to the envelope that had been placed alongside the dark green book. He knew that several of his newfound questions had answers within the envelope, and yet he found a small urge that resisted having anything to do with the paper it contained. This was something he didn't quite understand. In the presence of so many unanswerable horrors why would any part of him wish denial of a chance to solve at least some of those mysteries? While his mind asked itself this question it also immediately answered it. He knew that the fear born from opening the envelope came from having no idea what it might contain. The unknown was the most deep seeded cause for fear, and it was the cause for Lewis to seize up now. Though he hoped the envelope would contain answers, he knew there was an equal chance that whatever its contents were would only help his spiral downward into a personal hell. For the next several moments a battle within Lewis' mind played out over what he should do. In the end he found himself reaching toward the envelope in an effort to try and understand why his friend had left him this book.

Carefully he slipped his fingers inside of the envelope and took the letter between them. As he unconsciously removed the letter he couldn't help feeling as though déjà vu was taking over his life yet again. The nervous caution that he was showing now was not unlike the same caution he had when Officer Simmons had mailed him back the test results from Christian's note. Swallowing hard as an image of the insane man flooded his mind again, Lewis tried his best to focus slowly on the letter his nearly trembling hands clutched close to his face. Taking in a final, calming breath he began to read.

_Dear Terry,_

_Let me start this letter out by apologizing that I had to leave you this note without warning. After I got my hands on the book, which hopefully you found with this note, then I was hoping to discuss it with you in person. Alas our work is never done, and I had to leave rather abruptly for some business in Brahms._

_Personal excuses aside, let me answer one of the questions that I am sure is buzzing around in your skull right now. The book that I have left you is one that I was able to find over at the Silent Hill Historical Society, and the curator was gracious enough to let me borrow it for awhile. Please take care of it Terry. As you can probably tell it's a rather old book, and I'd hate to have to explain to Mrs. Locane why I can't return one of her treasures to her._

_Inside of the book is something which I think might be helpful to you. I went ahead and folded the page's corner, so you didn't have to flip through the whole book to find it. When I return, we can talk more about this matter._

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. Randy Sampson_

Letting the note's contents sink in, Lewis found himself with no more insight into the book's presence then he had before reading the note. Randy had given no reason why he had left the book, nor had he mentioned at all what was written in the book. Skimming over the note's wording again all Lewis could find of any substance was that the book came from the Silent Hill Historical Society, which was something that he could have figured out easily on his own. While his friend Randy was trying to help Lewis, the vague way he had gone about it did nothing to better the situation. With a sigh, Lewis decided to simply push the note aside and focus on the book itself.

Carefully picking up the jade book Lewis examined it over again. Knowing that it was a treasure of Mrs. Locane made Lewis even more careful with how he handled the book. He knew the museum curator very well, and knew that she did not welcome any sort of damage to come to her books. Still, Lewis found his fingers to be fumbling in angst as he looked for the page which his friend had marked. When he found the marked page Lewis took in a deep breath before opening the book.

Upon the yellowed page he found the title, _Abenaki: The Native American Ancestors of Silent Hill_, printed in plain lettering. Taking in the quality of the paper Lewis thought of how he wouldn't be surprised if someone had told him the book was written a hundred years ago. In reality the book was probably half that old. Still, being only half a century younger didn't clear up any reasoning behind Randy's decision. Reaching for his mug of cooling coffee Lewis took a slow sip before he began to read what lay before him, hoping that by doing so some of the mysteries surrounding him would be answered.

_When European explorers first came to this area they were met by a tribe of warriors who called themselves the Abenaki (pronounced OBB-uh-nah-kee). From their language this translated roughly to "people of the dawn"._

_While the image of them is portrayed as a "warrior" tribe, this is actually far from the truth. The Abenakis were a peaceful tribe, who used their weapons only against animals when hunting food for the tribe. Along with several other tribes they formed a confederation against their deadly adversaries, the Iroquis, and…_

Blinking for a moment Lewis had to refocus his mind back to the book in front of him. History had never been a favorite subject of his, and it was books like the one before him that had always put him to sleep during his school days. Back then Lewis had paid little attention to the past, instead believing that the future was where he needed to focus his efforts. As a psychologist, isn't that where he should look towards; the future? Especially for those he treated.

Recently though, his focus had been turned towards the past, at least the immediate past. His obsession with Cassie and her murder had consumed him and had forced any thoughts toward the future to be placed aside. Until he could sort out the past then Lewis seriously began to question what kind, if any, of a future he would have.

Despite the urge to read onward Lewis knew that dozing off while reading would defeat the book's purpose entirely. Randy had left this book for some reason, though Lewis highly doubted that reason to be a history lesson. Skimming ahead a few pages he suddenly stopped, and stared at the words that seemed to soullessly stare back. One word had jumped out at him, and instantly he knew that word was the reason for his friend's action of leaving the book to him.

_As more and more settlers from Europe settled near Toluca Lake the more the Abenaki nation came under threat. While fights were known to happen between the natives and the foreign settlers, these fights were never documented as turning into full scale war. Still, the settlers nearly wiped out the Abenakis; all without firing a shot._

_One of the problems that native tribes faced when trading with settlers was exposure to foreign diseases that their immune system could not fight. _

_Rampant disease led to the decimation of many tribes. The Abenakis were among those hardest hit in the New England area._

_Fearing that the strange men from across the sea were trying to wipe them out, the Abenakis ultimately fled to Canada, hoping that salvation would come to them in a new land. Before fleeing they performed one of their most sacred rituals, the husha_ _ritual. This ritual, according to descendants of the tribe, was meant as a memorial service for those lost to European disease. In the Abenaki language husha means "remember", and it was rumored that the almost surreal ritual was able to evoke the spirits of those whom had unceremoniously died._

Upon reading this excerpt, Dr. Lewis suddenly jumped out of his chair and stood straight up. Without notice several papers from his desk found their way to the floor. Ignoring the mess that his abrupt action had created, Lewis couldn't help but to wordlessly stare at the paragraph again as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"_Husha," Christian said in an unearthly tone._

Replaying the moment in his mind Lewis could do nothing but swallow hard as terror crept its way into him. When the mental patient had attacked him Lewis had been given no warning, nor any chance to fight back. In a blur of motion Christian had been on him, and the only thing he could clearly remember at all was that single word the man had uttered as Lewis slipped into black unconsciousness.

Now before him lay an answer. After his first encounter with Christian, Lewis had explained every detail to his friend, including the haunting word. That word must have stuck as vivid in Randy's mind as it did in his own, causing the young doctor to search out its meaning. Randy's search had brought him to this book, and this book had brought to Dr. Lewis a small clue as to what was going on.

"Husha," the doctor quietly said to himself, as though repeating it held some meaning. "Remember," Lewis said after a few minutes of silence.

Putting the pieces together in his mind Lewis suddenly found himself with another question. "What does Christian want me to remember?" That question alone chilled him to the core. Beyond that was yet another question that Lewis' mind couldn't help but wrap itself around. "How in the hell would a patient in a mental hospital be connected to a tribe of Native Americans that were wiped out more than three centuries ago?"

Letting these questions rise to the surface Lewis felt a sharp pain resonate in his skull. In response his right hand came to nurse his temple, in an attempt to relieve at least some of the numbing pain. As he did so he finally took notice of the papers strewn about his floor, and the unsettling mess that he had created.

"Damn," he quietly muttered to himself as he bent over to pick up the files from off the floor. Taking the papers into his hand something caught the doctor's attention from the corner of his eye. A manila envelope lay beside his foot, mocking him as he stared at it. Unconsciously he placed the other papers aside, allowing the envelope his full attention. As he gripped it between his hands Lewis simply walked around the corner of his desk until he once again found the comfort of his leather chair.

Sitting there, he immediately placed the envelope on his desk. This action proved to be enough to break his gaze from it. Though the address on the envelope's front seemed to blur Lewis knew full well from whom it had come, and what it contained.

Burying it under a stack of paperwork had made Officer Simmons' letter disappear for a time, but even then he had known full well that it would make itself known again just when Lewis had begun to put its existence out of his mind. As if on cue, there it lay once more.

Forgetting about the book and its revelation, as well as his skull's thumping pain, Lewis rested a hand upon the envelope. He asked himself why it had chosen this moment to reappear, but quickly dismissed the question. There was no reason behind its appearance now, nor had there ever been a reason. It simply appeared whenever it willed to.

"Terry, it's only a piece of paper," he found himself say. "Get a grip on yourself." Though these words came from his lips they certainly couldn't have originated in his mind. Despite a part of him that still clung to the last fragments of sanity within him, his mind knew full well just how insane things had quietly become. It was because of his mind that he found it so hard to grasp anything anymore.

Whether it was simply paper or not soon became irrelevant. Either way, it still sat there upon his desk before him. Running his hand along the envelope's smooth surface he just sat there and thought for a moment about the letter and Christian. With this startling new revelation about the insane man's word, he couldn't help but to draw his full self onto Christian. Unconsciously, his hand slipped inside the manila envelope.

This action, triggered by his thoughts of Christian, begged to be taken one step further. It wasn't enough that Lewis could feel the two slips of paper between his fingers. Something about Christian, the whole excerpt from the history book, and the haunting word's definition made his hand pull out both slips of paper and place them before him.

Seeing the crumpled and misspelled note once again made Lewis' heart jump into his throat. Some might have taken the opportunity to read over the note again, having time and new information feed their curiosity enough to brave a quick read. For Lewis, the situation was entirely different. Not only did he not want to read the note again, he didn't even want to see it. Giving into his only clear option, he moved the manila envelope to cover the note, before turning his gaze to Officer Simmons' letter.

Unlike the note, Lewis had an entirely different stance on the police officer's letter. Taking it gently in his right hand he skimmed it, making sure that every word was fully read over. Briefly, his eyes glossed over and he wondered why he was even bothering with the letter. Reaching the bottom he was about to put it down, before something caught his attention all over again. Thinking he might have misread something, he read over the sentences to himself.

_It was found not to be ink, but in fact is blood. Type AB negative according to the tests the specialist ran._

Immediately his mind told him of how something was amiss. The letter had to have said something different before, something that would have matched up. If the letter had read like that the whole time then how could he have missed it? Unless, he was mistaken about something else.

Placing the letter back down he began frantically searching for Christian's file. Lewis knew that somewhere he had set aside the folder that his friend had given him. Only in that folder could he find the truth about something, making his search that more desperate.

Every drawer was opened and every stack of papers thoroughly looked through as his desperation grew. He just had to find Christian's file, but where had he placed it? Thinking for only a moment, he tried to remember what had become of the folder. When it came to him he nearly cursed to himself.

After Christian had been sent back to isolation then Randy had decided to help his friend put the whole matter behind him. The best way to do that was to get rid of anything that might remind Lewis about the man. Obviously, Randy had taken it back to the front office to be replaced among the hundreds of other case files. Had there been more time Lewis might have realized this earlier, but in such a frenzied panic he couldn't afford much thought, nor could he afford any self-induced repercussions now.

Throwing open the door, Lewis flew out of the room, nearly trampling a dark haired nurse in the process. As he sped through Brookhaven's hallways Lewis kept his mind focused on one thing. With that thing taking hold of his mind something else found a small corner to flourish in. Despite his focus, part of him couldn't help but to scold himself for not realizing the error before. That was, if there was an error at all. He hoped there was, that he was just remembering something wrong. That hope lasted all the way until he stood before the young, blonde assistant.

"Leslie, can you get me the file for Christian Leiters?" Lewis asked of the woman, trying his best to appear calm and sane.

"Sure, one moment Dr. Lewis," Leslie said in response as she walked over to an adjacent filing cabinet.

Flipping through the numerous file folders, Leslie couldn't help but to wonder why Dr. Lewis needed this patient's file. Christian was a patient of Dr. Sampson's, and while it was true that Dr. Lewis had recently helped his colleague on this patient, it still seemed irregular for one doctor to specifically ask patient information from another doctor's cases. Finding the specified folder, Leslie just reminded herself that her work ethic was being paid here, not her curiosity.

Taking the folder from the assistant, Lewis rushed through the paperwork, looking for that one thing which would clear things up once and for all. His heart began to thump inside his chest as his eyes moved up and down each page in search of that one bit of information. Then, he found it.

_Christian Leiters: blood type B negative._

When Lewis read this his heart sunk. At first he wanted to know why he had missed the discontinuity between Officer Simmons' letter and Christian's file. Sure they were similar, but still it should have been something he had caught. Maybe the whole trauma of everything was finally beginning to take its toll. Lately he had found it increasingly harder to focus on anything, so an overlook was entirely possible.

Resting on a logical answer to his mistake Lewis began to close the file folder. Before he did so something came screaming from the back of his mind and almost made his entire self numb as it hit him. Opening the folder again he just stared back at the information sheet then thought back to Simmons' letter again. After a moment the horrifying question did not just go away, but in fact grew all the more resolute in his mind. Seizing his entire focus he could barely keep himself from asking the question aloud. _If it isn't Christian's blood on the note, then whose is it?_


	9. Ch 9

_Chapter Nine_

Sitting alone, Lewis kept his gaze ahead at the book that his friend had left him. All around him the day room was full of his fellow doctors, nurses, and even a few patients. He paid none of them any attention, however. Instead he just sat there silently, eating his lunch and reading to himself.

When he had first walked into the crowded room he thought that he might have to eat his lunch in his office, as that would be the only place he would find the solitude that he needed. Luckily, there had been a free table near the room's back corner, providing him with the perfect environment to eat and still focus on the work at hand.

Unlike before, the cafeteria had more to offer than wilted salads and graying meat. From what Lewis had heard, one of the patients had gotten violently ill from a meal and a transfer to the town's medical hospital, Alchemilla, had occurred. Before any of the local journalists could even come searching for a story the hospital's director had implemented a new stocking policy with the local grocery store. Those in charge at Brookhaven were always quick to stamp out anything that might jeopardize their otherwise pristine records, and they now believed that the matter of the food's freshness at Brookhaven could be put to rest.

It was their determination that had kept the murder of Cassie an otherwise low-key matter. Death was a rare occurrence for those that worked within Brookhaven's walls, especially a death that was not of some progressive disease. Cassie's death had been such an unexplainable ripple that could have quickly gotten out of hand, yet it hadn't. While the fact that a mystery without any clues quickly fades from the public's short attention span had factored into the story's quick demise, Lewis couldn't help but to wonder whether Brookhaven's PR department had put a little work in with the local journalists to help put the story to bed quicker.

It wasn't his place to wonder such things, however. All Dr. Lewis had to do was focus on his job and let the rest of the pieces fall where they may. By putting the matter of Cassie's murder quickly behind everyone, Brookhaven's higher-ups hoped to get the minds of their staff back on work and off any lingering thoughts they might have harbored for the poor girl. This plan seemed to have taken with everyone, except for Dr. Lewis. No amount of work or lack of discussion on the matter would have put his mind at ease, as he was now completely absorbed in her death and the subsequent events he had been forced through in the wake of her death.

Those events began to involve more than just him, however. Working in a small mental hospital in a small town such as Silent Hill, allowed for rumors to be spread fairly quickly. Word concerning what had happened between Dr. Lewis and Christian during their last encounter was being passed along. In the wake of Cassie's murder those working at Brookhaven had kept a fair distance from Dr. Lewis, believing that he needed some time to recover from such a gruesome ordeal. Their fears and doubts concerning him were just beginning to be pushed aside, until this latest information had been passed along.

While no one outside of Dr. Lewis and Dr. Sampson knew for sure what had happened, people seldom look for the larger and more complete answers. Someone had begun whispering how Dr. Lewis had nearly killed a patient, and was no longer fit to be a psychologist at Brookhaven. That whisper had quickly become rumor, and that rumor had quickly spread to everyone's ears. There was apprehension in each of them now about approaching the solitary doctor, and for that reason they left him to eat his meal alone.

Completely unaware of any of these facts, Lewis continued to pick at his meal as he read through the history book that his friend had left him. Despite the fact that he was unaware that there was a reason behind his colleagues' hesitation to join him for lunch, in this moment Lewis didn't care. He saw this solitude as the chance to focus solely on the matters that were troubling him, and to hopefully bring about at least some resolution to those matters.

While Lewis understood why his friend had left him this book, he just couldn't help feeling that there had to be something more. Learning the history behind one word uttered by a mad man hardly explained the reasoning behind its use. He knew that if he were to ask any of his other colleagues for help then none of them would. Being one of the most unstable patients in Brookhaven's history would allow Christian to continue on without anyone caring what his motives might be.

Exhaling some air, Lewis just wished that his friend had given him more to go on. Randy might have made a notable attempt to help him understand what was going on, but he still felt as though only the tiniest step had been taken. And it had been a step that had left Dr. Lewis even more confused than before.

Since he had read the small passage about the husha ritual, then Lewis had gone over his encounter with Christian a hundred times. There had to be some clue, some other small hint as to why Christian had used this particular word. He could find none. Nor could he find any clue when he thought about his meeting with Christian after the mental patient had attacked him. There just had to be something, he could feel it.

Focusing on the book since he had found it on his desk several days ago, Lewis could almost recite the entire history of Silent Hill. From the days of the Abenaki tribe, to the colonial settlements by British explorers, all the way through the Civil War days when Silent Hill had been known for a prison camp for Confederate POWs. Lewis had it all crammed into his brain, and yet none of it was useful.

He had to begin considering that Christian, being the insane man that he was, had chosen the word at random. Lewis had to consider that the only explanation behind Christian's actions was that there was no explanation. Despite everything, Christian had not seemed that far gone to Lewis during their encounter.

There had been a calm and collected way about the man, and other then what he had said, he had appeared almost sane. If he did choose some word at random, then why choose one that made any sense at all? Why choose one that actually had some substance outside the confines of this small hospital and had meaning to the town, if even it was the town's past?

No, Christian had a reason for all of this. He had a reason for sending him the note, for what he had said to him, and for attacking him in the fashion that he did. Deep in his gut Lewis knew this, and knew that his trained instinct couldn't be wrong in this case. Still, it exhausted him. Feeling completely stuck and alone he just sat back in his chair and placed his hands over his eyes, blinding himself to the fluorescent glow and letting himself slip fully back into his mind.

"Hello," suddenly came a soft, feminine voice to Dr. Lewis' ears as he sat there trying to sort things out.

The word startled Lewis for a moment, as even in the bustle of the crowded room he had managed to find a piece of quiet for himself. Not only did the word itself startle him, but also the fact that it had been directed towards him. Although he was oblivious to the rumors being passed around about him, he did know that those around him were making fewer and fewer attempts to associate with him. He could certainly understand any reservations that his colleagues might have about him, and in a strange way he was glad for it.

Pulling himself back into reality, Lewis found himself sitting in his chair and staring back upon one of the last people he expected to approach him. After nearly falling out of his chair, he couldn't help but to feel some shame over being caught off guard. Instead of focusing on it any further, Lewis decided to simply focus on the girl in an attempt to sort out her purpose.

"May I?" the voice continued on, as it's owner grabbed hold of the vacant chair set across the table from him.

"Actually, I'd rather be left…." Lewis started to object, but let his words trail off as the young girl sat down anyway.

Sitting across from Dr. Lewis, the girl sat there for a moment without saying a word. Her silence was replaced by a smile, which only furthered Lewis' curiosity about why she had sat down.

"Why were you sitting alone?" she suddenly and simply asked of the doctor.

Taking in the young girl's face, Lewis suddenly recognized her as the nurse that had helped after Christian had attacked him. "I'm kind of working on something," Lewis replied back, gesturing towards the book that lay open on the table.

"I see," Michelle quietly said after taking a quick glance at the book.

There was another pause as the two just sat there looking at each other, both of them with a waiting expression. Neither of them chose to speak, and the world continued to drift on, until Lewis decided that he couldn't hold back his tongue any longer.

"Really, if you don't mind," he said as he gestured back towards the book, trying to make it apparent of how he wanted to get back to his work. This tactic seemed to be lost on Michelle.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're alright," she said back with a gentle manner.

"That I'm alright?" Lewis couldn't help but to questioningly spit out.

"Yeah." Michelle sat there for another moment with a kind smile, until it struck her that Dr. Lewis hadn't a clue as to why she might be concerned. "I mean, after you were attacked by that patient."

"Oh," Lewis muttered as the whole event surrounding Christian's attack on him and the recovery afterwards in which Michelle had been involved with replayed in his mind. "Yeah, I'm fine Michelle. Thanks for your concern," he added as a hollow afterthought.

"Of course, Dr. Lewis." There was another pause where Michelle seemed to do nothing but sit there and smile, until she spoke again. "I'm a little surprised though."

"Surprised? Surprised by what?"

"Oh, just that you didn't take any time off after that whole ordeal. I would have thought that after being attacked like that then you would want to spend some time away from here."

Lewis had to sit back and think on that for a moment. Ignoring the fact that Michelle was talking about one circumstance in a growing line of several, he had to wonder why he had continued to show up to work day after day. Not so much was this wonder about being attacked by Christian, but by the gruesome murder of Cassie. He had not missed a single day of work. While it was true that his workload had dropped off for a while after the girl's unexplainable death, he had still dragged himself into Brookhaven day after day. No one had specifically told him that he couldn't take some time off, and were he to ask then they probably would have been sympathetic enough to allow a brief vacation. Still, he had shown up every morning and continued to do his job as though nothing had occurred.

When Dr. Lewis made no reply to her comment, Michelle decided to press the topic even further. "Don't you think some time away from here would do you good, Dr. Lewis?"

"Maybe" he softly replied back. Taking in her question, Lewis forced himself to consider it for a moment. With everything that had been going on then he could more than justify a break from work, yet for some reason he still didn't feel as though he had the right to. "No," he simply added after he took a moment to weigh the decision in his mind.

Michelle sat there for a moment, letting his words sink into her being. After her mind had its fill then she couldn't help but to ask, "What about a wife, a family? Don't you have someone to go to and push your cares of this place away, at least for a little while?"

Lewis' gaze had begun to wander back onto the history book lying on the table, until Michelle had asked these questions. Staring at her, he noticed how nothing changed about the girl, and she obviously had no clue as to the impact that these questions made on him. After hesitating for a moment, deciding whether or not he should actually respond, he decided that if he could give Michelle a few answers then maybe it would encourage her to leave, so that he could get back to his work.

"No, no I don't have a family," he muttered. With a quick swipe of his tongue across his lips they were wet once more as he added, "I have a wife, but no children."

"Why not?" Michelle continued, letting her kind smile put even further emphasis behind her question.

"Well," Dr. Lewis started. It was not something that he had given a whole lot of thought towards, especially in recent days where Brookhaven had consumed so much of his life. "I guess it all goes back to my first wife. She had never been much into children."

"Your first wife?" Michelle asked as though this offhand fact surprised her, and yet the look on her face told an entirely different story. Nothing seemed to change about Michelle's expression, as she just sat and stared on.

"Yeah, I was married to a completely different woman when I first got to Silent Hill then I am now." Adding a sigh, Lewis thought back to those first days in Silent Hill, back to when Felecia had been a part of his life. He couldn't help but to miss those days, even though he knew in his heart that the best part about them was that they were over.

"What happened?" Michelle curiously pressed.

"Well," Lewis started as he rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. "It was your classic case. Boy meets girl in college. Boy falls in love with girl and asks him to marry her. Girl accepts and follows boy to small town. Boy throws himself into his work, causing girl to be unhappy until she leaves." On this sentiment the doctor took a long sip from his coffee mug, grimacing slightly as his taste buds reminded him that the mug indeed held coffee, and not anything else that might otherwise help his emotional state.

"That's sad," the young girl simply replied.

"I guess so," Lewis muttered as he took another sip from his mug. "But it isn't as though her leaving was the end of the world." Inside Lewis knew this statement was far from the truth. When Felecia had left him, the entirety of his world had been shattered. Having lost so much in losing her, Dr. Lewis had slipped into a drunken haze that had nearly cost him his job, his life, and most importantly his sanity.

"And then you met your new wife here in Silent Hill?"

Letting his mind focus on thoughts of Felecia for a moment, Lewis nearly missed Michelle's question. When the question did register in his mind then he simply replied with a nod of his head and a faint yes.

"Tell me about her," the young girl asked as she anxiously looked at the doctor.

Opening his mouth, Lewis started to tell of how he had met Janice at the park one afternoon when one of her 2nd grade students had innocently asked him if he would like to join their picnic. Before he could get a word out though, his mind suddenly kicked back in and he couldn't help but to wonder why Michelle was asking so many questions. Looking back at the young nurse who sat across from him, he voiced this question aloud.

"I'm new here," she innocently replied, "and I want to get to know as many people working at Brookhaven as I can."

While Lewis could understand this answer, he just couldn't accept things at that. "If that's the case, Michelle, then why aren't you talking to anyone else? Why are you only sitting here and talking to me?" he asked in a much harsher tone than he intended.

Despite the rude tone that Lewis had used in asking these questions, and despite the fact that she should have been offended by that tone, Michelle just calmly sat there and smiled as she tried to answer the doctor's questions. "Because you looked lonely. Because you looked like you needed someone to talk to," she flatly said.

This wasn't quite the answer that Dr. Lewis had been expecting from the young nurse. Actually, he didn't know what he should expect from her. Having only met her briefly once before hadn't given him a proper chance to form an impression about her, and because of this then he should not have been surprised by anything she did. Still, with all of the recent events and all of those around him that had made their ignorance of him to be a new pastime, Lewis found Michelle's sentiment to be hauntingly odd in such a rundown and depressing place.

Pushing the young girl's sentiment to the back of his mind, Lewis pictured that day in his mind. He was spending some time away from the office at Rosewater Park, just enjoying the view. It was early spring at the time. The schools in Silent Hill were just about to close down for the summer, and Janice had thought to take her class to the park for a picnic; as sort of a year end celebration.

Closing his eyes, Lewis could almost feel the wind blowing off of Toluca Lake as he recounted the event to Michelle. The park's lookout had always been a special place for him. It was one of the first places he and Felecia had visited when they had moved to Silent Hill those many years ago. After she had left him, then he couldn't help but to frequent that same spot, as though by being there he could regain some sense of Felecia, and everything that he had lost along with her.

As he recalled the day, he remembered that there were a lot of people visiting Rosewater at the time. A far larger number than typically visited the park during the day. This rush of people had been caused by the fact that the park had been closed for a full week beforehand, but for what reason Lewis could no longer remember. Details like that didn't seem very important to Lewis. What was important about that day was meeting her, meeting Janice.

Even though Lewis had visited the park on almost a daily basis, he had never given the other visitors much notice. In this place he was alone amongst the crowd, and that had never been a problem for him. On that day however, fate was not about to let him remain content in his solitary gazing across the lake.

Things started out innocent enough. There he stood as from somewhere behind him he could hear the shout of a woman, calling out for some lost child. That child had ended up at Lewis' pant leg, full of curiosity about what he was doing. With a kind smile he had tried to give the young boy an answer that would satisfy his curious nature, until the woman had finally stumbled upon the two. Scolding the child for leaving the group, Janice had attempted an apology, only to have it and the matter pushed aside by Lewis' smile and a wave of forgiveness.

Before Janice could pull the young boy back to his class group, he couldn't help but to break away from her long enough to ask Lewis to join their picnic. At first, Lewis had politely refused. He was content to remain there, gazing out across the lake, as the rest of the world around him enjoyed life. The young child was insistent though in Lewis joining them for a bit to eat, believing that he had now befriended the man and could excitedly introduce him to his peers.

There was so much longing set into the young boy's pleas, that he hadn't manage to stay resolute for long. Finally, after he had began to doubt his own attempts, the boy asked Janice to convince the psychologist to join them. At this suggestion she couldn't help but to blush a little, which ended up encouraging Lewis that an afternoon's break from the lookout would do him some good.

During the picnic, Lewis had stayed near Janice as he tried to learn more about the kind woman that had caught his eye. Several of the students kept his attention though, asking him all manner of questions and pleading that he join in on their games. It was something that he hadn't expected upon entering the park earlier that morning, but he couldn't help but to oblige the kids for a while.

"So, you do like kids then?" Michelle broke into Lewis' retelling with.

Staring off into the past, Lewis thought about the question for a moment before replying. "Yeah, I guess I do. I've always liked helping kids, helping them to get onto the right track."

"Is that why you took Cassie's case? To help her out?" The young nurse coldly asked.

Recounting the day in which he had met Janice; Lewis had slipped into the past and had slipped away from what was going on. He had only halfway been paying attention to Michelle when she had asked her questions. When what Michelle had asked finally did hit him, Lewis shot forward in his chair.

"What did you just say?" Lewis asked as he stared at the girl intently.

"I was asking if your love for helping children was the reason that you take so many cases dealing with young people," came Michelle's reply as she smiled at him once again.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess that's true," the doctor replied almost dumbfounded. He could have sworn that the young nurse before him had just mentioned Cassie's name, but he couldn't be completely positive. Everything that had been going on in his life had left him so exhausted lately, making it hard for him to give much focus to anyone or anything. Wondering if it was this exhaustion, or because he had become so absorbed in his past, had caused him to believe that Michelle had mentioned Cassie's name, Lewis just sat there in wait for whatever question the girl would come up with next.

There was another pause as Michelle stared at Lewis as though she was expecting something more out of him. Many of the people that had flooded the day room earlier as they ate a meal had left. Their lunch breaks were over, and they had no choice but to return to whatever dull job put money into their pockets. Left alone and in near silence, Dr. Lewis looked over the girl and took every feature of her in.

Dark black hair fell from the top of her head nearly to rest on her shoulders. Her emerald eyes stared back at Lewis intently, almost as though they were judging him, as he took her face in. Michelle's skin was a very creamy white, with just enough hue so as to not make her look pale. And it looked soft to Lewis as well. The girl's skin was so young and free of the worries that take over one's appearance as the years fade away behind them.

"Michelle, how old are you?" Lewis asked as he realized how young the girl now seemed to him.

"Why I'm eighteen of course." The sweet tone in the girl's voice helped to add to Lewis' feeling about how young she was.

"Eighteen?" the doctor repeated, showing with his tone how skeptical he still was by this admission.

"Yes, of course I'm eighteen, Dr. Lewis." Michelle said with a continued smile. "If I wasn't eighteen, then I wouldn't be here now would I?"

"Why do you say that, Michelle?" Lewis asked after pondering the girl's question for a moment.

"Because the internship program here doesn't allow for anyone to be younger than eighteen years of age." As Michelle continued on she pointed to a name tag that had been clipped onto her white uniform, indicating her role at Brookhaven. "And if I'm not an intern, then what else would I be doing here?" she added.

Finishing the last of his coffee, Lewis gave this some thought. The girl that sat across from him still seemed a little out of place to him, but Lewis had to admit to the fact that he could be wrong about her. It wouldn't have been the first time he had so quickly misjudged someone, especially a woman. Maybe it was the fact that he was getting older, and as his youth disappeared behind him he was more inclined to believe everyone else was that much younger. Whatever it was, Lewis decided it wasn't important.

Letting the matter over her age fade behind them, Michelle decided to once again ask a question of Dr. Lewis in an attempt to learn more about him. "So why did you become a psychologist anyway?"

Pushing aside his empty coffee mug, Lewis leaned back in the plastic cafeteria chair before answering. "Well, I've always wanted to help people, help them overcome their problems, you know? People say that the world can be a dark and dreary place, and if I can help people out of that mindset then my life can have some purpose I suppose."

"Have you ever been like that, Dr. Lewis? Feeling like the world is a dark and dreary place? Without any hope, without anyway of coping with what was going on?"

_He stumbled across the cobblestone drunkenly, no longer sure why his shattered heart continued to pump in his chest._

"Erhm, no not really," the doctor replied with a clearing of his throat. "I've always been on the positive side, looking for that one ray of sunshine that always breaks through the clouds."

_The sun would be up soon, and he knew that the new day would bring him nothing but more emptiness. An emptiness that he had to find a way to fill._

"Not even after that patient attacked you?" Michelle asked sympathetically. "If something like that had happened to me, then I don't know what I would have done."

In his being Lewis knew that his statements about staying positive no matter what was nothing more than a lie. He had faced demons before, and they had nearly destroyed him those years ago. Ever since he had seen Cassie's murdered body those demons had threatened to come back, lingering just on the edges of his consciousness in wait for the perfect moment to strike. Brookhaven was full of people that knew just how fragile he was; so for Michelle to seemingly buy into his fabrications didn't make a whole lot of sense to him.

"Are you okay?" asked the young girl as Lewis stared off into some other world.

Opening his mouth, Lewis began to reply with some other lie to put her mind at ease. Then something hit him, and he closed his mouth at the thought. This whole time that Michelle had been sitting there, asking her questions, Lewis had been responding to them without much hesitation. He knew nothing of her, and yet he had poured his heart out as though the two had known each other for years. As this realization came over the Brookhaven doctor, then he felt something come over him that could only be described as creepy.

Ignoring the feeling for a moment, Lewis decided that it was time to turn the tables on the conversation. "So, why are you here at Brookhaven, Michelle?" he asked trying not to be rude about it, but not quite succeeding.

"I'm an intern here," she replied simply as she once again pointed to her nametag.

"Yes yes, you're an intern." There was some slight frustration in his tone as Lewis decided to ask, "But why are you here? Why did you decide to be an intern at this hospital?"

"Oh," the young nurse replied as she suddenly realized what Lewis had meant by his question. Her expression changed in the moment before she gave her reason. A smile still came from her face, but somehow it was different. It wasn't the same smile that she had worn during their conversation thus far. "I'm here to help."

As before, this answer was not quite what Lewis was expecting. Nor did he find it particularly helpful. Instead of pressing the issue further, he just decided to ask a different question. "Did you grow up here in Silent Hill then?"

Michelle's face returned to its normal appearance, kind smile and all, as this question was asked. She seemed to consider the question for a moment, before responding with, "Why is that important?"

"I just thought…" As Lewis tried to explain himself he couldn't help but to pause, not quite understanding what was going on in the girl's mind. Still, he decided to try again. "I just thought, that since you were asking so many questions of me, that it would only be fair for you to answer a few of my questions."

Again, the young girl seemed to think about the statement for a moment, before simply saying, "Why would you care about anything concerning me?"

Sitting there dumbstruck, Lewis began to open his mouth in response, until a sudden noise from across the room broke his thoughts, and pulled his attention away from the young girl.

The day room was now vacant save for Lewis and Michelle. This absence of others had allowed for a layer of stillness to fall upon the room. It was a stillness that the room was beginning to enjoy after being so crowded during lunch, and it was just as upset as Lewis when the doors flew open and in rushed one of Brookhaven's white coated doctors.

"Terry! Terry!" the doctor yelled out as he ran across the room towards Dr. Lewis.

When his colleague approached him, Lewis turned away from Michelle to take in the man's worried face. "What is it Keith?" he asked Dr. Brennerd, afraid at what might have caused the normally subdued man to act so hastily.

"It's….Dana," Brennerd said as he struggled to catch his breath. "You need to……come quickly…."

When Lewis heard the patient's name, his concern instantly kicked in. Dana was one of his favorite patients, and if something were to happen to her then that would be something he just couldn't handle. Especially in the midst of so many other personal tragedies.

"What's wrong?" he frantically asked of his fellow doctor.

"Just…..come…..quick….."

Glancing back at Michelle, Lewis couldn't help but to feel guilty at leaving her. She had been kind to him, and given him the chance to think about something other than what was beginning to consume his life. To abandon her just as things were starting to go somewhere in the conversation for him frustrated him, but a slight nod from the young nurse only gave permission to leave things as they were for the moment.

Quickly gathering his things, Lewis followed Brennerd out of the day room doors, and down the hall towards Dana's room. Despite further coaxing, Dr. Brennerd refused to say anything further on the matter. This didn't give Lewis much of a chance to prepare for whatever he was walking into, although when he saw for himself what the situation was then he knew nothing could have prepared him for it.

Maneuvering past a physician and a pair of nurses, Lewis entered Dana's room. Holding back any nausea that bubbled up in his throat, he looked over the fragile form of Dana, trying to ignore the coating of red that surrounded her.

"What happened?" he asked as he knelt by Dana.

"Iii don't know, Dr. Lllewis," one of the nurses shakily replied. "I came to gggive Dana her lunch, and she wasss like this."

Taking Dana's thin arm in his hand, Lewis looked over the crimson cuts that ran across her skin. For a moment he just stared at them in silence before he felt like he needed to take his attention away from them. There was just something too familiar about the whole situation, and Lewis didn't want any part of it.

Stepping back from Dana's body he decided to ask the physician for a diagnosis. As a mental hospital, Brookhaven only had two medical doctors on hand. Dr. Hunt was one of them, but this man was someone he was unfamiliar with. "Is she going to make it?" he couldn't help but to blurt out.

Checking over her vitals, the doctor replied over his shoulder. "She's lost a lot of blood. But if I can stabilize her quickly, then the facilities at Alchemilla should be able to help her recover."

At the doctor's urging, the two nurses helped to lift Dana's lax form onto a stretcher and out of the room, leaving Dr. Lewis alone to just stare at the aftermath of Dana's attempted suicide.

He didn't understand it, no matter how much he thought about it. Dana had never shown any sign of violent or self destructive behavior. Certainly she hadn't appeared suicidal in the least. But as Lewis stared at the bloody sheets that she was lying upon moments earlier he just couldn't shake off the feeling that something was very wrong. The scene replayed eerily similar to the same one in which he had found Cassie in, and he just couldn't rid himself of the disturbing sense that he found coursing through his being.

Looking over the scene one final time something struck him. Moving his gaze off of the sheets onto the dusty book clutched in his hand, Lewis suddenly remembered the question of what blood had been used to scrawl out the misspelled note. Suddenly it became important to him that he figure out where exactly the blood had come from on the note. As he exited the room only a quick flash of something struck his mind before he left, determined that he would now put the pieces of what was going on together, no matter what happened.

_There was blood everywhere. It didn't matter to him though, he didn't care at all. No, what he cared about what finishing his task, of filling his being's need._


	10. Ch 10

_Chapter Ten_

"No, you don't understand. I don't want to leave him a message, I want to talk to him now," he angrily said. Pausing for a moment he added, "Yes it's important. Could you please just tell him that Dr. Lewis wants to talk with him?" This time there was a different quality to his tone. His question sounded more like a plea, a plea that finally got him somewhere in the conversation. "Yeah, I'll hold." As the voice was replaced with some dulled music, Dr. Lewis just sat there with his ear pressed to the receiver in wait.

When he had seen Dana's blood coating her room's sheets, something had clicked inside of his mind, and he had been reminded of the misspelled note's blood type difference that he had discovered earlier. There were too many unexplainable things surrounding him, and Lewis knew that if he could solve at least one of them then that would be the start he needed to pull him back from the awaiting abyss.

Resolved to shed more light on the difference, and hopefully more on the note itself through that difference, Dr. Lewis could only think of one person to call. It hadn't been an easy decision to make, as he was sure the person had their fill of Cassie and everything else. Still, Lewis knew he needed help on this, and he had no where else to turn.

Waiting for the music to end, Lewis' gaze couldn't help but to wander out his office's window. With summer dwindling into autumn the leaves were already beginning to change. From where he sat he could see oranges and reds overtaking the greens of the trees rooted just behind Brookhaven. This changing of colors had always excited him as a child, as the new shades made everything more vibrant around him. The trees just seemed more alive, despite the fact that they were wilting in preparation for winter. Nature's choice in colors gave them this appearance. Variations of red and orange made each tree seem as though it were being consumed in fire.

"Dr. Lewis?" suddenly came a female's voice, jarring the Brookhaven doctor from his thoughts about the trees and days gone past.

"Yes, I'm still here," he muttered into the phone's receiver.

"I'm afraid he's very busy right now, and can't take your call, Dr. Lewis." There was nothing apologetic about the woman's tone. "If you would like to leave a message then I can…."

"I told you I didn't want to leave any damn message!" Lewis angrily broke into the woman's words with. "It's urgent that I speak with him."

"Sir, you can either leave a message, or try back later," she replied as she tried to maintain her composure. "Either way, you don't have to take it out on me."

Breathing in and letting the fresh oxygen calm his anger, Lewis thought about the offer for a moment. He hadn't meant to be so rude towards the receptionist, but she just didn't seem to grasp how important this phone call was. Letting his frustration subside, he simply said, "Just have him call Dr. Lewis at Brookhaven Hospital the first free moment he gets."

"I'll pass the message along," the receptionist on the other end said before hanging up the phone.

Blinking for a moment as he took the phone call in, Lewis carefully placed the receiver back on the phone. The phone call had not gone at all like he had hoped, though recently so little had. Over the past few weeks nothing seemed to bring him anything other than more misery, and more frustration. Every time he tried to put something behind him, it merely threatened to grow stronger until given another chance to strike. Facing such things, how was anyone expected to remain sane?

Leaning back in his leather desk chair, Lewis closed his eyes and focused on his heartbeat. There were so many things in the world that were unpredictable, that continued on without making any sort of sense. It was partly due to those things as to why he had chosen to study psychology those many years ago. He had believed that through those studies, he might be able to get a better understanding about the world, and those inhabiting it. With so many things left unresolved, Lewis could find some comfort in his own beating heart. There at least was something that continued on, unaffected by anything else that life threw at him.

In not having the phone conversation he was planning on, Lewis suddenly found himself in a moment with nothing to do. That wasn't entirely true. There were things that needed his attention. There always was. Just because he needed to do them, however, made him feel no less inclined to.

Turning away from the window, Lewis stared at his desk. Covering it were several neat stacks of files and other paperwork all laid out. This was another thing that he could find a small piece of comfort in. Even in the worst of times Lewis was able to hold onto his rigorous organization skills, seeing this as his only chance to put something of his life in order.

Across his desk and across the stacks of files, Lewis' eyes caught several forms that needed his attention. When someone thinks about being a psychologist, they always think about dealing with patients, and helping them on the road to recovery. That was the driving force behind Lewis' own ambitions. No one ever takes into consideration how much paperwork is involved in dealing with the insane. Undoubtedly, it was the most tedious part of the job. Yet for some reason, those in charge made it seem like the most important.

Since he could think of nothing else to do, Lewis gave a defeated exhale as he decided he shouldn't put off his work any longer. Reaching for the nearest stack, he began wondering where he should begin. Suddenly his arm stopped, and he couldn't help but to recoil as he took in the name on the form in front of him.

_Patient Name: Stenson, Dana_

Dana was one of the last people he wanted to think about. In the past she had been one of his favorite patients. Though she rightfully belonged in Brookhaven, her calm and cheerful manner always seemed to put Lewis at ease. Ease, and something else that he couldn't quite put a finger on. Having to deal with so many violent and unstable patients at Brookhaven made him treasure the peaceful sessions that Dana and he had enjoyed.

Now though, that was all different. When Lewis had first taken in the scene of Dana and her attempted suicide, he didn't know how to react. There was something chilling about it, and familiar. Seeing Dana there laying and bleeding, he couldn't help but to think back to finding Cassie. That was a moment he didn't want to relive for the rest of his days, especially not with a patient such as Dana.

Dr. Lewis just couldn't figure it out. During her whole stay at Brookhaven, not once had Dana shown any symptoms of violence or a self destructive nature. She had always appeared to be child-like in her ways, and children are far too naïve of the world to want to kill themselves. In the end, he supposed it didn't matter as to the why. It had happened, and for now Dana was recovering at Alchemilla, and out of his reach.

Bringing his hand back towards his face, he collapsed into it. Rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger, he lost himself in thought. He was tired. There was no other way to put it. He was tired of what was becoming of his life, and of what was becoming of his career at Brookhaven. He needed something to help ease the ill feelings that coursed through his veins and plagued his mind. Letting his hand slide down over his eyes and across the bridge of his nose, Lewis just decided that in this short term moment work of any sort would not be the best call.

Raising himself out of his comfortable chair, Lewis decided that a fresh cup of coffee would do him some good. With the recent changes to the hospital's menu he was certain that a steaming cup was left waiting for him in the day room. Grabbing a mug from off of his desk, he made his way out of his office, making sure to close the door behind him.

Brookhaven's halls seemed eerily vacant. Being well into the afternoon, most of the hospital's doctors were either attending to their patients, or had left early for the day. Dr. Lewis did not envy those who were busy playing the role of psychologist, although with a stack of his own work to do then he could hardly count himself as being so different. Still, he couldn't help but to find the stillness surrounding him to be a calming change from the usual bustle of the hospital.

When Lewis reached the day room, he entered the room not entirely sure what to expect. While the halls might have been void of life, he knew that as one of the more popular spots within the hospital's walls, then the same void might not be found behind the door in front of him. To his relief, there were only a pair of doctors and the janitor, who was busy cleaning up the mess left by the earlier lunch crowd.

Making his way to the black coffee maker plugged into the wall opposite of him, Lewis ignored the few individuals that he passed. Although it wasn't his intent, he appeared very focused on his way to fill his mug. This appearance wasn't due to any desire to keep himself distant from those around him, but it was an unconscious defense mechanism that had kicked in shortly after dealing with Cassie. If no one could get close to him, then maybe they would stay oblivious as to what was really going on in his mind.

Filling his mug with the steaming liquid, Lewis began to wonder what he would do with his time as he waited for a return phone call. Obviously, work was out of the question. Despite the fact that he had plenty to do, he knew that any such work would have to begin with what had happened to Dana, and that was a matter he just couldn't deal with. Still, he just couldn't return to his office and count the dots on his plaster ceiling. It was in those moments of solitude where his demons really came out, and threatened to overtake his sanity.

Fate decided to step in however, as though it was reading the doctor's mind. Behind him and across the room the pair of doctors parted ways as one of them left to return to whatever work she had been avoiding. This left her companion alone in the room with Lewis and the janitor. For a moment, this doctor seemed content to sit at his table alone, until he saw Dr. Lewis getting coffee and decided to approach him.

"Ah Terry, getting a fresh dose of energy I see," the doctor said from just behind Dr. Lewis.

Focusing on the coffee and lost to his own thoughts, Lewis was completely oblivious to the man's approach. Hearing his name mentioned and the doctor's voice directly behind him caused Lewis to nearly jump out of his own uniform. Not to mention he had nearly spilled his freshly poured drink all over himself. Working in a mental hospital like Brookhaven tended to leave people on edge. Lewis was even more so after all of the recent events he had gone through.

Calming his heart down and letting his emotions take on a more subdued sense, Lewis turned to face whomever it was that had called out his name. Taking in Dr. Brennerd's face, he just stood there in silence as he stirred some sugar into his mug.

Instead of waiting for Dr. Lewis to answer his question, Brennerd decided to ask another question that had been burning in his mind ever since he had last seen his fellow colleague. "How's Dana doing?" he gently asked.

"Fine," Lewis said with a stumble in his voice. "She's doing fine according to the last report I heard. If you want to know about her condition, then I'm really not the person to ask." Although Lewis didn't want to be rude to his fellow doctor, he couldn't help but to try and be as curt about the situation as possible. He could understand the man's concern for Dana, and the curiosity about her well being. Being involved with the whole incident surrounding her, then that certainly gave Brennerd cause for his question. Still, it was something that Lewis wanted to have as little to do with as possible.

Letting the matter of Dana fade, Brennerd stood there anxiously as another question rested on the tip of his tongue. Looking over Dr. Lewis, he just took in a breath before breaking the silence between them.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said with a slight smile. "I was wondering though, if you were busy at the moment."

Lewis didn't quite know how to take his colleague's statement. Glancing at him, then back at his mug, he simply said "I'm just getting some coffee, Keith."

Exhaling some air, Brennerd overlooked this obvious fact so as to try and get to the real matter at hand. "Of course," he said with a hint of frustration. "I meant, what you are going to do once you had your coffee."

Continuing to stir his mug, Lewis looked back at his fellow doctor, not quite sure where he was going with the conversation. "Well," he started in a reserved tone, "there's plenty of work for me waiting back in my office. Nothing I'm excited about jumping into right now, though."

Hearing this, Brennerd shuffled a file folder from his right hand into his left as he asked, "Then you wouldn't mind discussing a matter with me?"

Sipping his coffee to test it for the proper flavor, Lewis just glanced over the rim of his mug. "What matter?" he asked absentmindedly.

"Gary Bertram." flatly replied Brennerd.

Hearing the man's name, Lewis nearly spit out his freshly sipped coffee all over the doctor before him. In coming to the day room and ignoring the matter of Dana, Lewis had hoped to avoid harboring any ill thoughts. The mention of Gary's name, however, forced that hope to quickly fade away. "Why?" he found himself blurting out as he tried to pull his mind away from such a frightening topic.

"Don't you remember?" Looking back at Lewis, there was no sign of recollection about their earlier discussion, forcing Dr. Brennerd to mention it again. "We were going to compare notes in regards to his case."

Slowly a vague memory began to seep its way into Lewis' mind. He recalled bumping into Brennerd earlier, and the brief discussion they had in regards to Gary. While he had agreed to his colleague's offer of help, it hadn't been something that Lewis believed would actually occur. Having so much on his mind had caused a prompt agreement, giving him the chance to quickly leave the doctor's company and return to his duties. Between the discovery of the history book, and everything involving Dana, Lewis had pushed the offer to the back of his mind and very nearly forgotten it.

"If nothing else, then it will give you something to keep you busy with for the afternoon," added Dr. Brennerd as he noticed his colleague to be thinking the matter over.

Taking this sentiment in, Lewis weighed the matter. Going over Gary's case, or any case, wasn't something that he wanted to spend his time on. Waiting for a return phone call, he couldn't help feeling like he should just sit in his office and relax for the time being. So much was going on around him that it was hard not to get overwhelmed in the emotions of it all. Some time to himself would probably do him some good, even though he feared at the possibilities of what might seize his mind in the solitude.

Thinking over Dr. Brennerd's offer, and taking his own fears into consideration, he ultimately had to accept his fellow doctor's offer. Despite the fact that Gary's condition was hardly something he felt comfortable about discussing, he knew that there were other things that were far more disconcerting. Plus, this was something that he felt needed done, and what better way was there for him to use his time until more pressing matters arose?

"Alright Keith," the older doctor said, followed by another sip of his coffee.

"Good," came a simple reply. "I just need to get a few files from my office, and then we can discuss the matter." There seemed to be a cheerful tone to his words as Brennerd told this to Lewis. Gary's case was one that had been bothering him since he had been asked to fill in for Dr. Lewis. Given the chance to finally discuss the matter with someone else that was familiar with the mental patient, left him feeling very encouraged.

"Fine." Reaching back and grabbing a napkin to place on his coffee mug, there was a hollow sense to Lewis' words. It was as if he was barely present in the room, leaving his body to stand there while his mind wandered off somewhere else.

Giving a hint of a smile, Brennerd ended the conversation with "I'll meet you in your office then," before turning around and exiting the room.

Left in the nearly vacant day room, Dr. Lewis couldn't help but to blink. He had never expected that the young doctor would actually bring up the matter of Gary again. Very few people at Brookhaven still valued Lewis' opinion, and in honest he had only believed Brennerd's earlier request to be nothing more than a friendly gesture. Letting his surprise over the matter subside, he decided to follow suit and head back to his office.

Moving through Brookhaven's hallways, nothing appeared to have changed since he had entered the day room. If it wasn't for the flickering of a faulty light, then Lewis would have believed time itself had frozen. He couldn't help but to think of the prospect as he turned the corner.

Time seemed to be something that was against him. A widely held belief was that time had the power to ease one's mind, healing the wounds that one's actions had caused. This was something that Dr. Lewis had heard over and over again during the course of his life. First off, when Felecia had abandoned him, and then again more recently in the wake of Cassie's death. Deep down he couldn't help but to curse at those that had repeated such foolishness. Time was certainly not a friend; at least not a friend of his.

With this on his mind, he nearly missed the approach of another of Brookhaven's doctors. Looking at a paper that she held in her hand, she was as ignorant of Lewis' approach as he was of hers. When the two passed each other, the female doctor brushed up against Lewis. This brief touch was enough to pull each of them out of their respective worlds, causing the woman to turn to see whom it was that she had nearly ran into.

"Hey, Terry," she called out gently as she recognized the psychologist.

Having heard his name called out by a second person in such a short expanse of time caused Lewis to stop in his tracks. Part of him was nervous in regard to facing yet another colleague of his. Those nerves were caused by the uncertainty of what this woman might want. Curiosity ultimately won out, however, as he turned around to see a friendly face staring back at him.

"Sorry for nearly running you down," the woman said sheepishly with a slight smile.

"Don't worry about it, Joyce," Lewis casually replied. "It's an easy thing to do around here."

"I suppose your right," Dr. Hunt furthered as she tried to shrug the matter off.

Despite the fact that Joyce was a good friend of his, Lewis didn't feel the need to stay in her presence any longer. There were other things that required his attention, and after giving the woman a reassuring smile, he turned and prepared to continue his way to his office.

Before Lewis could move any further, Dr. Hunt decided to see how her friend was doing. "How has everything been going for you, Lewis? I haven't seen much of you lately."

Reluctantly, Lewis turned back around to face his friend. "You know how it goes, Joyce. There's always plenty of paperwork to steal away all of my time."

"Yeah," she quietly replied back. At the mention of paperwork, Hunt was suddenly reminded of the memo in her hands that she had been scrutinizing when she had nearly run into her friend. "Have you taken a look at this yet?" she asked as she held up the memo for Lewis to see.

Narrowing his eyes, Lewis tried to get an idea of what the slip of paper said, hoping that it indeed was something he had seen before and he would be allowed to continue on his walk to his office. Unfortunately, this didn't satisfy the woman's question, forcing him to step closer and take it in his hands.

"I just got it myself," remarked Hunt.

Skimming over the text, one could tell that it was something from those behind the curtain of Brookhaven. Both the length and the official looking format were dead giveaways of its source. "No, I haven't," came an absentminded tone reply. Trying to get the gist of the memo, Lewis focused his attention on it until he decided to hand it back to its previous owner.

"No, go ahead," was Hunt's reply as she held up her hands. "Feel free to take it and read it all you want."

"Thanks." While his reply hinted at gratitude, the tone behind this single word was far too sarcastic to appear genuine. Looking up from the paper, he took in the sight of the woman doctor before gesturing down the hall with his coffee mug. "I really should get going," Lewis said, trying not to sound too rude.

"Oh of course." When she had stopped her friend, Hunt hadn't given any thoughts toward what the man might be doing. Feeling slightly guilty all of a sudden, a slight hue came to her face as she tried to avoid letting her feelings float to the surface. "Take care, Terry," she added with a smile.

"You too," muttered Lewis, before he turned away from the woman doctor, and headed back down the hallway.

Leaving Dr. Hunt behind him, Lewis glanced over the memo as he continued on. Having worked in Brookhaven for many years had allowed the doctor to memorize the hospital's layout. From anywhere in the building he could walk to his office blindfolded and still not get lost. Despite some near run-ins that had occurred, there never seemed to be any problems in reaching his office, as he only had the vaguest sense of the world around him.

Focusing most of his attention on the memo, he tried to understand its purpose. The slip of paper didn't seem to say anything important, at least not important to him. Here was just another way for those in charge to announce their authority, as a new networking program was to be introduce on all of the hospital's computers. It was more or less garbage to Lewis. There were too many things for him to think about. How Brookhaven's computers were to be updated was of little consequence to Lewis. He kept this thought on his mind as he stepped through the open doorway of his office.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something, but he didn't take full notice of the situation until he heard the crunch of paper from underfoot. Pulling his gaze off of the paper in his hands, Lewis took in the scene around him. For a moment he couldn't understand what had happened, instead just letting his eyes widen in shock.

The stacks of papers that had once been neatly on his desk were now all over the room. Covering the floor, his chair, there was even a few pieces of paper strewn across a plastic office plant. Lewis couldn't wrap his mind around what might have happened in those few minutes while he was away.

Taking a step forward, he looked for any other clue as to why his papers had been knocked off his desk. That was the only way he could think to describe what he saw. From where he stood, it was obvious that someone had come in and pushed all of the files off his desk, letting them fall wherever they may. There could be no other explanation.

Kneeling down, Lewis began to pick up some papers off the floor as his mind raced with reasons for what had happened. Was someone searching for something? Had this been done as some sort of a twisted practical joke? He just couldn't understand it, though part of him was afraid of what the answer might be. After so much had happened to him recently, there was a voice inside his mind that urged him to merely clean up the mess in peace.

"What are you doing?" suddenly came a voice from behind Lewis, causing his heart to stop and his mind to freeze in panic.

Despite the urgings from his inner voice, another part of him knew that he couldn't ignore the question for long. Glancing over his shoulder, Lewis relaxed as he saw his fellow doctor standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Brennerd repeated, this time having a more friendly quality in his tone.

"Someone came in and trashed my office while I was getting coffee," Lewis replied with his attention still on Brennerd. "I don't know why they would have…." As he turned his gaze back in front of him, there came a falter in Lewis' voice as his words trailed off.

The office he now saw was not the one he had stepped into, but rather the one that he had left. Each stack of files was still neatly placed on the desk. Beneath his feet the carpet was as clean as it had ever been. Even his chair looked to be in the exact same condition as he had left it. Finally, in his hands were not the files that he picked up from the floor. Instead, the only piece of paper that he held was the memo that had just been given to him.

Standing up from off of the floor, a disconcerting wave crashed over Lewis as he struggled with what had just happened. There had been papers everywhere. He knew that his office had appeared ransacked a heartbeat earlier. Or had it? Putting a hand to his temple, he couldn't help but to wonder if everything was starting to get the better of him.

"Are you okay, Terry?" asked Brennerd, full of concern.

"Yeah," came a shaky reply. "I just….. don't know."

"Why don't you sit down?" the younger doctor suggested as he led his colleague around the desk and into his leather chair.

Easing into his chair, Lewis began to relax. While he still felt concerned over what had just happened, he couldn't help but to feel that concern slip away as the leather comforts of his chair eased his body.

For a moment the world faded away around him, and Lewis forgot about everything else outside of that moment. Closing his eyes, he nearly drifted off into sleep, until a shuffle across from him pulled his mind back into awareness. Seeing his colleague take a seat, Lewis merely said, "Now, what were we going to talk about again?"

"Gary Bertram." Dr. Brennerd flatly replied as he produced a manilla file folder and placed it on top of Lewis' desk.

Taking the folder into his hands, Lewis carefully opened it and started to look through the files it contained. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the papers before him, and he began to wonder why exactly Dr. Brennerd had asked to meet with him in regards to the patient.

Waiting for the doctor in front of him to finish skimming over his work, several questions rushed into Brennerd's mind. Typically, his work consisted of dealing with patients in the M and C wings. When he had been asked to fill in for Dr. Lewis on a case involving the S level patient, he had jumped at the chance. Now, however, he had to wonder just how great of a decision that had been.

Closing the folder, Dr. Lewis just held it for a moment before returning it to the doctor across from him. Even after reading through all of Brennerd's notes, there still didn't seem to be an apparent cause for this meeting. The young doctor had kept thorough notes, but nothing seemed as though it would be of use to Lewis, or his own work in regards to Gary.

Having his work back in his own hands, there was a still moment as Brennerd waited for a response. By giving the file folder to Dr. Lewis, he had hoped there would be something to catch the older doctor's attention, thus giving them a place to start their discussion. For a few more moments the two sat staring at each other, before Brennerd's patience fell away.

"Well?" the younger doctor asked, hoping this word would spark some response from Lewis.

When Lewis heard this word, he didn't feel anything but more confusion. Easing back into his chair, he merely furrowed his brow before replying with a shrug and a simple, "Well, what?"

"Did anything stand out to you?" came a second question from Brennerd as he moved to the edge of his chair in angst.

Bringing his left hand to rest on his temple, Lewis sifted through the information within Brennerd's file. In his mind he looked for something, anything, that might stand in as what the young doctor wanted him to notice. Nothing came to mind, however. Clearly Brennerd had something in mind. Letting his mind fall to this fact, Lewis merely gestured with his hand for the younger doctor to continue.

He wasn't expecting to have to start off the conversation, but as Lewis gestured for him to do so, Brennerd decided to lead them both to the most logical starting point. "Gary has been here for….," his voiced trailed off for a second as he flipped through his notes until he found the exact number, "nearly seven years, correct?"

There was no verbal response to this question. Instead Lewis merely gave a nod of his head before allowing Brennerd to continue.

"He and his wife were on their way home." Flipping through a few more notes, a softer tone came from Brennerd's voice. "Their car was hit by a drunk driver. Over on Sanders street, according to the police report."

Again, Dr. Lewis gave a slight nod, confirming his colleague's words. This time he added "By Neely's Bar," quietly, almost as if he were only saying it to himself.

_Above him there was a faint glow. Like a moth to a flame he was attracted to it, yet part of him also feared at the result from being here for too long._

Thinking to himself, Brennerd's mind traveled back in time seven years. "I remember that," he muttered as the event came back to the forefront of his thoughts. "Reading about it in the paper, I mean. It was a terrible tragedy."

"Yes, yes it was," was the only comment Lewis decided to make as he sipped from his mug, slightly disappointed that it didn't hold something other than coffee.

Searching further through Gary's file, more about what had happened to the man was reminded to Dr. Brennerd. "Both the drunk driver as well as Gary's wife were pronounced dead at the scene. Gary himself suffered a concussion and a collapsed lung that had been punctured by his own fractured ribs."

Following along with Brennerd's retelling of the event, Lewis couldn't help but to remember the incident himself. It had happened not that long after he and Felecia had moved to Silent Hill. Gary had been Dr. Lewis' first S level patient, and it had been his most challenging case at the time.

"For the next several weeks he was in a coma," the young doctor continued. "When he finally woke up and learned that his wife had died…." At this point Brennerd paused, as if he were absorbing the next few words into his own being before speaking them aloud. "He wasn't able to handle it. He just snapped."

"And that's why he's here," came a flat reply from Dr. Lewis.

In the next moment silence once again entered Lewis' small office. Neither doctor chose to speak. Continuing on down the page Brennerd read Gary's file, until he stopped at something. There wasn't anything remarkable about what he gazed upon, yet for some reason he felt like mentioning it anyway. "Gary's recovery was at Alchemilla."

At the mention of the medical hospital, something in Lewis' mind seized up. He didn't understand why, but suddenly his gaze, and his attention, was drawn to Dana's file that still lay on top of his desk. Though it was nothing more than a few stapled sheets of paper, he couldn't help but to feel like there was more to those stacked slips. It almost felt as though there was a soul trapped in the grains of the paper, a soul that was staring back at him.

Noticing that his colleague made no response to his last statement caused Brennerd to shift his gaze off of the file. Staring at Lewis, he wondered for a moment what was going on in the older man's mind. "Terry?" he called out. "Are you okay?"

Ripping his attention away from Dana's file, Lewis' suddenly found the young man across from him to be staring. He didn't know why Brennerd had suddenly fixated on him so, but he did know that suddenly his desire for this meeting had been lost.

Leaning forward in his chair some, he looked at the younger doctor before speaking. "Keith, I don't think I can be much of help to you here."

Hearing this didn't convince Brennerd that Lewis' was indeed alright. He could understand anyone's aversion to discussing such dark matters, especially someone like Dr. Lewis. Having one of the longest tenures at Brookhaven certainly gave him the right to enjoy such work that much less. When you took into consideration some of the recent events that had occurred to him while working at Brookhaven, it was amazing that he had managed any sanity at all.

Wondering why Lewis had suddenly said this to him caused Brennerd to turn and look at what had captivated the older doctor moments ago. There was a patient file that lay on top of a stack of papers, and from what he could tell it was no different than a thousand others. Then Brennerd caught the name of which patient the file belonged to, and he suddenly understood his colleague's abrupt change in attitude.

"I'm sure Dana is doing fine," was all he could think of to say to try and reassure Dr. Lewis.

"Keith," Lewis started, though he wasn't quite sure where he would finish. "I just don't know about things anymore. There was no indication that Dana would do anything of the kind, yet she did. I don't know anymore," he went on as the mood in his voice became more downtrodden. "Maybe I'm beginning to lose it."

"No," came another reassurance by Brennerd. "You just need some time to decompress. You've been working here nonstop for so long. I think you just need to leave the work to the rest of us for a little while," he added with a friendly smile.

"Maybe," came Lewis' quiet reply. "Maybe I should…." But he was unable to finish his thought.

Suddenly the phone on Lewis' desk began to ring, breaking into the two men's conversation. Despite the fact that he had been expecting a return call, when the phone actually did ring Lewis nearly jumped out of his chair. Shakily, he reached for the receiver and cleared his throat before muttering a hello.

"Hey there, doc. Susie tells me there's something you're just dying to talk to me about," came a familiar voice from the other end.

Placing his hand over the mouthpiece, Lewis looked across his desk. "Sorry Keith, but I have to take this." The younger doctor simply nodded an understanding before he gathered his things. Flashing a caring smile, Brennerd turned and exited the room.

With his colleague now gone Lewis felt able to talk over the matter that had suddenly become so important. "Yes there is something, John." He said flatly.

"Whoa now doc, didn't know we were on a first name basis here," the police office wryly replied.

Sighing, Lewis remembered just who exactly he was dealing with. "I don't have time to play around here," he curtly said.

"Well don't mind me doc. I just figured you'd give me a little more respect, seeing as how I'm the law and all."

Lewis was hardly in the mood for such games, but for the moment he bit the bullet, hoping that by doing so something might be accomplished. "I need a favor, Officer Simmons."

"Now that wasn't hard, was it?" Waiting for a reply, all that the police officer got was a grunt of disapproval from the Brookhaven psychologist. Sensing the man's fuse was a little shorter than usual, Simmons decided to move on. "What can I do ya for?" he asked, changing nothing about his tone.

"I need the medical files you have for Cassie," Lewis quickly and tonelessly stated.

This request knocked Simmons back for a moment. When he had first been given the message to call Dr. Lewis, he didn't think that the call might involve the long dead girl. It was something that he should have been aware of, though. For some reason the psychologist on the other end seemed to be obsessed with the girl. God only knew why.

"Why do you want those files, doc? That case has been closed for some time."

"Just get them to me, okay?" Lewis nearly pleaded. "I need them in regards to another case."

This admission piqued the officer's curiosity. "What other case?" he pried.

Lewis hadn't expected Simmons to show an interest in why he needed Cassie's files, so for a moment he was thrown off balance. "I can't divulge that," he quickly lied. "Doctor/patient confidentiality."

Letting his own disapproval be known, Simmons sat there for a moment until another question rose in his mind. "Why do you need our medical files on Cassie. Didn't that fiery red-head over there give the girl a once over?"

"No," was Lewis' reply as he began to lose patience in dealing with the man. "Cassie was scheduled to take her physical the next morning." There was a pause as the Brookhaven doctor recalled the events surrounding Cassie on the fateful night. "She didn't make it until then," he quietly added.

Though he didn't understand why, Simmons decided to try and accommodate Dr. Lewis. Part of him was reminded of the fact that he had already done so much for the doctor, and that to do any more in regards to the dead girl was far from the best of ideas. Still, he couldn't help but to pity the man for what he must be going through, and if he could be helped in some way, then Simmons felt obligated to do so.

Finally after thinking it over once more, Simmons simply said, "Okay, doc. You'll get your files as soon as I can locate them."

"Thank you," the doctor replied, feeling very grateful to the man and letting that gratitude be known in his tone. "Fax them to me as soon as you can."

"Sure," Simmons almost sheepishly replied.

With his request made, Lewis couldn't think of anything further to say, so silence passed between the two men as they each pressed their ear to the phone in wait for something more to be said. When a few awkward moments faded behind them, Lewis decided to speak. Opening his mouth, he was about to add to his thoughts, before a sudden noise caught his attention.

Taking the phone with him, there were a few words from Simmons that reached the doctor's ears over the phone. He didn't hear them, however. Instead his attention was fixed on his office's fax machine as it hummed. "I thought you said you were going to fax the medical files later?" the doctor asked Simmons in confusion.

"That's right, doc. As soon as I find them," Simmons replied, completely unaware as to what was going on across town from him.

"Then what are you sending me right now?" came another question from Lewis, this time with anger starting to seep into his tone.

"Nothing at all. I haven't even left my desk yet," was Simmons' reply.

Approaching the whirring machine, Lewis began to get frustrated at the police officer on the other end. He knew that Simmons was the owner of a terrible sense of humor, and Lewis was in no mood for such games right now. If whatever was coming through was indeed from the police station, then so help him he was going to do something to Simmons.

Cautiously he watched on until the machine was done performing its task. With one hand he picked up the thin slip of paper, still holding onto the phone in his other. Taking the paper in his hand he slowly turned it over to see what had been sent to him. The moment the paper revealed its nature, then Lewis dropped the phone in terror as his eyes widened and his heart threatened to stop.

Instead of being a document of words or some other medical business, there was only a picture. The picture was Dana, lying in a pool of blood in the middle of her Brookhaven room. What really pulled at his soul wasn't this picture, but what was scrawled beneath the picture in red ink:

_no 1 is sayf frumm his jujment._


	11. Ch 11

_Chapter Eleven_

Everything around him was a blur. Colors ran together. Sounds from just outside seemed faraway and distant. Even the comforting fabric beneath him seemed wholly different in this moment. Still, the Brookhaven doctor managed to keep his thoughts grounded as he sat in his office.

Receiving yet another misspelled note the day before had left him feeling completely lost. Sinking into his leather bound chair, he had stared at Dana's picture and the scrawled message for nearly an hour, not quite certain how to handle it; or even if he could. Finally he had given up though, and left early for the day.

The comforts of home hadn't been helpful either. Janice was found in their home office, going over some materials for the next week's class schedule. When he had found her Lewis was hoping for a sympathetic ear and the caring embrace only found in her arms. Instead an argument had broken out; over what he couldn't remember. All he knew was that it had been a heated one, leaving him on the couch for the night. Despite the result it was something he felt shouldn't be such a surprise to him. After all, this pattern was happening more and more frequently as time waned on.

Now he sat here, in his office, unable to focus on anything. His mind just felt as though it were made of clay, and no matter how hard he tried he simply could not get anything concrete from it.

Instantly his lack of rest provided by the rigid sofa sprung to mind as the reason that he felt so out of touch this morning. As his mind drew itself to this reason, his hand was drawn to something else that awaited his attention on the desk. Carefully he wrapped a few fingers around the handle of the ceramic mug, drawing it ever closer to his lips.

When his lips touched the mug's rim, he instinctively cringed at the liquid's burning taste. From within his mind was a voice that had urged against this indulgence, knowing how quickly things could spiral from partaking in it. That voice was one he had quickly silenced though on this brisk September morning. Too many things had brought him into misery in the past day for him to not have at least a few moments with his old friend. Ultimately though, he didn't really care.

Placing his concerns in regard to the drink aside, Lewis had to admit the toll it was taking on him. Forced to sit in a stupor couldn't so easily be explained away. The amber liquid had to be responsible for at least part of this result, even if he felt that other causes surely factored in as well.

This thought left him to return his mug to the desk, before vigorously rubbing his eyes. Whether it was alcohol or fatigue that left him so drained was ultimately unimportant. What was important was how he was to use the time he had here at Brookhaven. He was a psychologist, and it was time that he did something productive in that respect.

Still, thoughts of work only drew him to one topic: Dana. Enough time had been spent worrying about her already, but now that he had received a strange note in regard to her then that concern had quickly multiplied. Before leaving the previous day Lewis had felt the need to call Alchemilla, to be certain that Dana was indeed all right. Several assurances had been given by one of the hospital's nurses, causing him to at best appear foolish in his frantic concerns.

If only the nurse had known the full scope of what was terrorizing his life, then maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to brush him aside. Lewis couldn't blame her though. No one really knew what was going on. Honestly, not even he knew. All he did know was that his sanity had given up on trying to sort anything out.

Letting his gaze fall from the pockmarked ceiling above, the doctor shifted in his seat until a cluttered desk once again enveloped his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the latest piece that somehow fit into the nightmarish puzzle that had forced itself upon him. Of course, he could only assume that what was going on was a puzzle, and that everything by default was somehow connected. Even this resounding detail was something that he couldn't be one-hundred percent on, though as he went over everything then he knew in his gut that they had to work in conjunction with each other somehow.

The only way he would ever be certain about anything was if he put in the effort to figure things out, no matter how much his mind feared such a thing. In regards to Dana's picture that had somehow been faxed to him, he had decided to go backward in time to the nearly identical thing that had begun his descent into insanity. There was no mistaking the misspelled words accompanying Dana's horrifying picture, as he knew its author had passed along a work to him already.

Before his friend Randy had left to do some work in Brahms, he had aided the troubled doctor in sorting out the first misspelled note's origin. This knowledge had in turn brought about his fateful encounter with Christian Leiters, a man to whom so little was known. While there was not a vast wealth of information about Christian, as some of the other patients in Brookhaven were attributed, there was still enough for one to be left outside the shadows of his vague past.

Because of this information, Lewis had made sure to stop by the reception station the moment he had entered the hospital's chilling walls earlier in the morning. Leslie had given him another odd look as he once again requested Christian's file, but he knew her confusion would quickly be washed away seconds after resuming her work. Unlike before, Lewis wasn't content to merely stand there as he scanned the file for a few key bits. If he was to gain any understanding as to why Christian had sent him another chilling note then he would have to delve deeper into the man's past.

Rereading the events leading up to his incarceration by the Silent Hill police department didn't help to reveal anything new to the doctor. Nor was anything helpful found in the following three years in which he had been a resident at Brookhaven. Still, Lewis continued to examine every word, knowing that somewhere tucked between some useless fact lay a clue as to who this man really was, and why he had chosen Lewis to torment.

The vague fragments of Christian's childhood that Lewis had skipped over before now acted as his starting point, as the doctor couldn't help but to wonder if something had occurred long ago that now served as the root cause of his psychosis. Unfortunately, the details about Christian at any age were sparse, leaving Dr. Lewis with little to draw from.

Nothing about the early years of the man's life seemed remarkable. From the police's background check, it had been discovered that he had grown up in the nearby town of Ashfield. His mother had passed away at a young age, and this loss had driven Christian's father deep into his career; leaving the young boy to fend for himself. Still, he had managed to project a normal image for several years.

Tucked in with the police report was a letter from a Mrs. Whitfield, who had been a teacher of Christian's. Responding to the Silent Hill police's check on the man, she had written that Christian had always been an active student with a strong sense of conviction, and that he had always kept his home life to himself. So much so in fact, that for most of the time she knew him she was unaware of the situation concerning his parents.

When he had entered high school, Christian had begun to change drastically. Of course, many young adults change during this period of their life, but he had become much more withdrawn than typical. Not long after he begun high school, one day he just walked out of the building and was not heard of for more than a decade. Apparently having run away from home, there had been no search for him. Not even by his father. By this point in his young life, nobody cared about Christian or what was becoming of him.

The next fact about his life came when some local hunters had found him naked near Toluca Lake. Instead of taking him to a hospital, or trying to sort out what was really beneath the surface of this man, the group had merely dumped him off at the police station; where he remained ignored for several months.

Going over this, Lewis felt the need to pause and wonder how the man had ended up in the woods. If indeed he had spent thirteen years of his life living near the lake then someone would have spotted him long before they did. Especially considering what the man would need to do in order to survive the elements. Surely there had to be something else to fill in this span of time and explain where he had been. Unfortunately with Christian once again in the isolation ward, then Lewis was hardly able to ask the man about this missing time.

Something suddenly struck Lewis as he realized that he had never been given a reason as to why Christian had been placed in isolation. In discussing the man with his friend, Randy had never mentioned why, only that he had spent the past few months there and was cutoff from the rest of the world. Having something new about Christian confuse him, Lewis began flipping through the pages of his file, looking for any word that might serve as a clue.

On one of the last pages in his file was a brief incident typed on Brookhaven letterhead. Following his placement at the hospital, he had shared an M level room with an older patient named Rick Felkes, who suffered from extreme paranoia. For more than two years these men shared an existence within the cramped patient room, having little to do with each other. Then one day things changed.

Typed across the sheet before Lewis was a nurse's account of what she had witnessed. Entering the room to give Rick his daily medication, she had found him tucked behind his bed clutching a plastic knife. Trying to calm him down for several moments only caused the situation to worsen, before Rick finally tried to slit his own throat with the utensil. Being that it was plastic though left the man with nothing but a mild skin irritation across his neck. A pair of orderlies stepped in at this point, dragging the man from the room.

Rick hadn't gone easily though, as the whole time he had been kicking and screaming, repeating over and over "He's coming after me! Christian said so!" Searching the room had revealed a small pile of the antipsychotic pills that had been prescribed to him, as well as a roommate that did nothing but smile at the older patient's misfortune.

While those running Brookhaven decided what should be done with the man, Randy had been forced into questioning him, to try and sort out what had really occurred. Having been Christian's assigned psychologist left the man's actions squarely on Randy's shoulder, and placed Lewis' friend into a place no doctor ever wanted to be.

According to the attached report from the young doctor, there was no sign of remorse or regret from Christian as he was asked to explain himself. Spending such a length of time with Rick as his roommate, those involved with the case were confused as to why he had chosen that moment to push the fragile man over the edge. The only response that Christian had given was "because he could."

Reading these words sent a chill down Lewis' spine. Nothing about this man sat well in the doctor's stomach. Whether he saw it from the man directly or merely read about it on paper, the same frightening effect came from Christian's actions.

Flipping back through the man's entire file, Dr. Lewis scanned once more for something resolute as to what connection he might have with Cassie. The young girl had to be connected to him somehow, for it was her death that acted as a doorway for him to enter Lewis' life. Not a single printed word seemed to shed any light on a connection though.

But there had to be something. Randy had been right about Christian being locked away in isolation during Cassie's stay and murder at Brookhaven. Being locked away from everything, how could he have known about her? More than that, how could he have gotten the scrawled note to him if he had indeed been locked away and kept under guard?

If these questions hadn't been enough, there was now an entirely new reason to bring this man into question. The note in regards to Dana was unmistakably identical to the previous one concerning Cassie. Unlike Cassie's murder though, the suicide attempt from Dana had not been a galvanizing topic around the water cooler. Very few discussed it, and even then they kept it to a brief stating of facts and sharing of concerns. So how could Christian have known?

Ever since their last encounter when Lewis had attacked the man, he had been locked back in isolation until it was deemed safe to return him back to a normal patient room, and back to the rest of Brookhaven's population. With him once again locked away, there was no conceivable way that he could have heard about Dana's suicide attempt, nor was it possible for him to gain access to any paper to write his message down. Thinking about how he had received the latest note only further confused Dr. Lewis, as another icy chill ran down his spine.

Failing to find anything to make sense of things, Lewis' head fell into his hands. The daily routines that he had once enjoyed here at Brookhaven were now nothing more than a perverse way to torment his soul. There were just too many questions, too many dead ends, too many unexplainable matters for his mind to cope with. It was simply becoming too hard to keep what small fragments of sanity he had left together, and as the reality of what was happening bore down on him, he nearly wept.

_The only noise that came was a slight whimper, before the room finally grew silent._

Hearing this strange noise forced Lewis to shoot up in his chair. Darting his eyes around the room, the doctor made certain that he was indeed alone in his office. If there was no one else though, then where had the abrupt noise come from?

A host of noises were known to take residence in the old mental hospital, and the doctor's brain rested on the assumption that one of these causes had grabbed his attention in this instance. That was, if there had indeed been a noise at all. Being so tired and out of it could have caused him to imagine the whole thing. Leaning back into his chair, he started to accept this and tried to relax, before something odd beckoned to his attention once more.

Upon his computer screen there was an odd pattern. Dotted across it were small beads of color, and he wondered what was wrong. Reaching towards the monitor he touched a few of the beads, realizing that they had substance and were not some electronic abnormality. Wetness was the first thought that entered his mind as he pulled his hand away and gazed at the spots that now covered his fingertips. Rubbing his index and thumb together he tried to discern what the droplets were, only to have his eyes widen in sheer terror when he realized.

Panic flooded through his mind as he instinctively wiped his hand onto his white overcoat. Smearing redness over the bleached white caused Lewis to panic even more, as he became worried someone would discover the stain. If it was discovered, then Lewis knew he would find himself in a very awkward position.

Quickly though such concerns were brushed aside as his gaze moved from the stained clothing back to the blood's source. Staring at his computer monitor only one thing ran through his mind; where had the blood come from? There was no obvious answer. Nor was there an apparent reason that it now speckled his computer screen, leaving everything nearby void of any trace.

Lewis knew that this couldn't have appeared without cause. After analyzing Christian's original note, it had been determined that blood was used in its creation. Seeing blood here again had to in someway connect back to that note, and its mentally unbalanced author. The longer that Dr. Lewis focused on the situation then the less sense it made. Flooding his ears came the sound of his own thumping heart as terror in regards to the matter threatened to overwhelm him.

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

Louder and louder the resounding noise flooded his conscious mind, consuming his full attention. Focused solely on this, any thoughts outside of this moment dissolved away as his entire world became his heartbeat and the event that had caused it to suddenly be so erratic. Breathing in slowly Lewis worked to calm down, yet the noise grew louder. It was as if it had a will of its own, a will made to deny the doctor's attempts to quell it. For a moment the question of why his attempts to calm his heart remained futile swam through his head, until Lewis realized that the sound was not the beating of his heart, but was in fact a steady knock on his office's door frame.

Pulling his attention away from the computer monitor when he realized the origin of this latest disturbance, his eyes rested on the familiar dark haired nurse. "What do you want, Michelle?" he asked with a panicked tone and terrified eyes.

"Good morning, Dr. Lewis," she replied with her usual smile. Looking across the room at the doctor's face she instantly could tell something was wrong. Changing her positive demeanor she asked, "What is wrong?" in a concerned voice.

A drop of sweat rolled down the side of Lewis' face as this question was asked of him. There were so many ways that he could answer this simple matter, though whether or not any of those responses made sense were things that not even he knew. Still, he felt as though he needed to try somehow to let this girl know what had forced him into such a state. "On my computer screen here is…" but he was unable to finish, as another chill was sent down his spine the moment he returned his gaze to the glowing monitor.

His computer's monitor sat there completely clean. There was not a single drop of blood, nor was there any hint that there had ever been one. Suddenly seeing the computer screen without any crimson traces made Lewis feel almost as frightened as the moment he had first taken the sight of the blood in. Cautiously, his fingers brushed the screen, making certain that what was before him was real.

When he realized that the blood had indeed vanished from his computer screen, something else struck him. Frantically pushing away from the machine, he began searching his white coat. Pulling and twisting it around his sagging body he became desperate in his pursuit of any sign that stained blood remained on the garment. Like the screen from where the blood had come, the bleached white clung to his body mockingly spotless.

Taking a step into the doctor's office came the young girl as her concern for the man before her began to mount. "Dr. Lewis?" was her response as she watched the man wildly writhe in his chair, for reasons that she could only guess at.

Abruptly Lewis decided to stop in his search as it became obvious that he would find nothing to back up his claim that seconds ago a frightening world had enveloped him. And why should he? Between blood written notes and assaults from the unexplainable, then where was there room in his life for anything remotely sane? Resigning to this fact, all that Lewis could do was slump in his chair defeated.

Slipping into a half conscious daze, Lewis completely forgot the presence of the young intern. Standing there in wait for an explanation, not a sound came from Michelle. While she may not have known what was currently happening to the doctor before her, it was a curiosity that she ultimately had to forgo. Her coming to Lewis now had been for a purpose, a purpose that she was determined to fulfill.

Carefully Michelle crossed the carpeted floor to where Lewis slumped at his desk. Unsure of how to rouse him from this state, she decided to simply clear her throat, hoping that it would in some way pull him back into reality. When this subtle action failed, then she warmly spoke "Excuse me, Dr. Lewis?"

In the moments following his resignation then Dr. Lewis' mind drifted off. Nothing of his surroundings mattered anymore. Not the computer monitor, nor the young woman who anxiously stood across from him. If life was going to play such cruel games with his sanity then what else could he do but refuse in playing them? Despite this sudden desire to hide away in his own private world, it quickly became apparent that he wouldn't be allowed such a luxury, as Michelle's voice drew him back to reality.

Staring at the young woman, he couldn't help but to wonder what had brought her back into his presence again. There was something expectant flickering in her eyes, and all he could think to do was ask her what it was that she wanted as he struggled to keep his emotions balanced.

"I'm working on a project," came her words as a smile returned to her supple face, "and I need your help on it."

Lewis couldn't help but to ask himself how he could possibly help this girl. In days gone by he had always been eager to assist anyone that was in need. Now though, he merely wanted the chance at some solitude and to be kept as far away from work as possible. "Help with what?" the doctor asked Michelle, trying to keep his sentiments over the matter hidden away.

Pulling a small device from out of the shadows and into view, Michelle continued on by saying "I'm making a scrapbook of Brookhaven. You know, just a few pictures of what life is like being an intern here, and I would really love it if I could take a picture of you for it."

Letting out a grim sigh, the doctor started to object. Of all the things that he wished to do at the moment, getting his picture taken was hardly near the top of this list. Before he could say anything though, Michelle began shifting her way around the older man's wooden desk.

"Alright, now smile," followed her maneuvering as she leaned onto Dr. Lewis and held the camera before them. A heartbeat later there was a blinding flash as the camera captured the moment on film. "Thank you so much," spoke the young woman again as she took a step away from the doctor.

A whirring noise was made as the camera's workings developed the picture and spit out a blank white square. Taking it, Michelle began to wave it around a bit, making the comment "I've always loved these old fashioned cameras. There's no fuss with having to send the pictures out to be developed, or any of that confusing programming involved with those digital ones."

Slowly an image began to take shape on the flimsy square, and as Lewis watched Michelle shake the photo then he hoped that her business with him was done. He just had too many things that needed his attention at the moment to be bothered by this young woman. Not anything that might be related to his work per se, but he knew that some progress had to be made in regards to Christian and the note, so that he might finally be granted a pause from the numbing horrors around him.

"Ah, here we go!" Suddenly Michelle stopped in her movements, only to scrunch her nose as she stared at the photo. "Well, it's not the best picture ever, but it'll work. Here," she added as she offered it to Lewis.

For obvious reasons Lewis had no desire to look at himself through the camera's lens, yet he found his hand gripping it anyway. The image showed him two people, who from appearances seemed as different as can be: Michelle, young and jubilant, and himself, aged and sullen. His expression in the photo reflected how he felt both emotionally and mentally precisely, yet still he found the depressing look to be a surprise.

Once the doctor had handed back the photo, then Michelle moved her way back around his desk, never once taking her eyes off of him. "Is something bothering you, Dr. Lewis?" she finally decided to ask.

Jarring him from his own self pity all of Lewis' attention clung to this question, as though it had longed for someone to ask it. In truth it had been asked before, several times in fact, as seemingly everyone at Brookhaven had suddenly grown concerned for his well being. "I'm fine, Michelle," he quickly lied. Whether the lie was for her benefit or for his own he couldn't be sure of.

Michelle was hardly about to be satisfied by this simple response. Just a glance of the doctor's face revealed the fragile state he was in, and she was not about to let him continue in this manner alone in his office. "It's okay," she softly spoke. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me what's wrong."

Afraid? Both the word and the implication it made were things that didn't sit well with Lewis. Fear was something that he had always believed he had known about. However, everything about his life since Cassie's death had pushed his definition of fear to its limits, resulting in many things to cause him to be afraid. Talking to this young woman though was not one of them.

"Don't you have some work to do?" he couldn't help but to ask, hoping the question would prompt her to leave him in solitude once more.

"My shift doesn't start for another half hour," pleasantly replied Michelle. Easing into the seat across from him she merely stared, urging him to go on with as gentle of a smile as she could wear.

As before, Lewis found his hand caressing his face, as Michelle's refusal to leave brought a newfound trouble into his life. "It's just…" he began, but suddenly held his tongue. Several people at Brookhaven had already lost their respect for him due to his handling of Cassie's death. The last thing he needed was to lose whatever admiration that he had apparently earned from the young woman across from him, nor did he feel that he had the right to pull her into the bizarre world that had somehow become his life.

Despite his misgivings, part of Lewis felt like telling her what was going on. This part had grown weary of shouldering the burden of his life alone, and knew that by retelling recent events to Michelle then he might have some of that burden lifted. Looking across at her, across into her piecing emerald eyes, then he felt the last barriers in his mind crumble away.

"Go on," Michelle urged after a few moments of silence, never once letting her caring smile fade from her young face.

"Do you remember when we first met, Michelle? After Christian attacked me, I mean?" It was an obvious question, yet she still nodded in answer. "Well, there was a reason that I had gone to see him. A reason other than what I officially told."

From this statement Lewis expected some concern to come from Michelle. As a new member of Brookhaven's staff, one at an impressionable young age, then he assumed she would grow uncomfortable in learning that he had stepped outside the lines of protocol. Instead though, she just continued to listen intently, unaffected by his admission.

"A couple of months ago a young girl was brought here to Brookhaven by the police. Her name was Cassie, and I was assigned her case." Suddenly the doctor stopped himself on this fact. Of course Michelle knew what had happened in regards to the wiry young patient; everyone in Silent Hill did. "But then again, you already know this part of the story," he couldn't help but to say.

"No, go on. What happened to Cassie?" Nothing changed about Michelle as she asked this.

For only a moment Dr. Lewis' mind wondered how she could have remained oblivious to the young girl's much publicized murder, before he shrugged the feeling off and continued on.

"According to the police, they had found her rummaging through an alley garbage dumpster, and was uncooperative when they tried to sort the incident out. When she finally did speak to the police, then what she had said caused them to send her here to Brookhaven for treatment."

There was a long pause as Lewis slipped back to that fateful day when Cassie had been brought in. Nothing had seemed remarkable about her, and up until he had been called back to the hospital then he had believed her to be just another textbook challenge to overcome. "And then she was murdered," he coldly blurted.

"Murdered?" the young intern couldn't help to ask, a touch of curiosity mixing into her cheerful manner.

"Actually, it has never been declared an official murder," Lewis had to admit. "How she could have been killed remains a mystery, but I've never known someone to carve out their own stomach as a means of suicide."

_Her stomach had been turned into a gaping wound, as though she had been skewered by some object._

Having the horrific scene flash in his mind caused Lewis to stumble in his words and reach for his mug of alcohol. Without hesitation he downed some, believing the drink was the only way for his mind to cope with the mental image of Cassie's body.

"I see," was Michelle's toneless reply. "But what does that have to do with Christian?"

Breathing in deeply, there was an odd calm that washed over Lewis. He could feel his heartbeat settle to its normal pace and the sweat on his brow begin to dry. Before he could answer the young intern's question, then Lewis knew he had to retrieve the original note that had started his descent into where he now found himself.

Pulling his eyes away from Michelle's soft face Lewis' eyes wandered down a series of desk drawers, until they rested on the bottom one. Cautiously his fingers gripped the brass handle, pulling it open. Lewis knew full well what was lying in wait within the wooden drawer, and in knowing about it left part of his being to beg that he close it and forget the matter altogether. If he was going to have Michelle fully understand the state that he now found himself in then he knew she had to be shown every piece that he had so far collected; including this one.

A manilla file folder rested on top of a stack of papers within the desk, and it was this folder that he uneasily grabbed. Slamming the drawer shut, a shiver ran down Lewis' spine as he placed the folder on his desk. Unconsciously he opened the folder, took the crumpled note in his hand, and slid it across the desk to Michelle; the whole while keeping his eyes fixed on the girl's expectant face and as far from the misspelled note as possible.

Moving her gaze off of the doctor and onto what he had placed before her, Michelle settled a hand on it and began to study the few words scrawled across it.

Even as Michelle moved to examine the note more closely, the middle-aged doctor kept his eyes focused on her. Light cast by the room's fluorescent bulbs made her silky black hair appear to glow. This effect was not reserved solely for her dark strands, as there was an enticing quality to her skin as well. The hue splashed across her divine and supple flesh was something not easily ignored. From her face which framed those dazzling eyes and delicately glistening lips, to the gentle rise and fall of her chest, Lewis' attention was drawn more intently as his eyes wandered. Each subtle curve of her body caused the bleached white uniform to become taut as it hugged her nubile figure; leaving only the anticipation of what lay underneath to rest in one's mind.

"Dr. Lewis?" suddenly came a voice.

Ripping Lewis away from his thoughts was the soft calling of his name, and as he fell back into the world around him he suddenly found Michelle to be staring at him in wait. Seeing her eyes with his own caused an uncomfortable sense to rest in Lewis' being, a sense that was only eased as he took another bitter sip from his mug.

"Did Christian write this note?" the young girl asked with genuine curiosity, believing that getting Lewis' mind back on track would be the best way to resolve the distress that was so apparent in him.

Making sure to push the crumpled note away from his field of vision, the psychologist sat there and thought back to his discussion with his friend in regards to the note. "Yes he did," he muttered.

"But why?"

"Why did Christian write the note?" For some reason Lewis felt the need to repeat this aloud. It was a question that had been screaming in the back of his skull since the moment he had discovered that this man was the note's author. Despite going and asking the man this very question on two occasions though, he was left to sit here and continue to wonder. "I don't know," was his simple reply.

Though Lewis had pushed the misspelled note aside, it was hardly out of the young girl's thoughts. Looking over the note again, making sure to take in every subtle facet it offered, she continued to try and sort out in her mind some reasoning behind it.

The fact that Michelle was searching for an answer in her mind was something not lost upon Dr. Lewis, as her features changed in response to this new line of thought. "The real mystery isn't why he wrote it," Lewis broke into her thoughts with "but how." Accompanying this statement was Lewis' hand as it turned Christian's open patient folder around and slid this forward in the same fashion as the crumpled note.

With something new to envelop the intern's attention, Lewis' pushed himself back into his chair's leather recesses and slowly let his eyelids fall where they may. This action was a necessity for him, as he didn't want to find his eyes transfixed again by Michelle's barely adult form.

Reading over the patient's recent history here at Brookhaven began to form an understanding within the intern's mind. "How did he manage to get it to you from inside his isolation cell?"

"Exactly," the doctor said as he swiveled his chair back around so that he was once again face to face with Michelle. Opening his eyes and taking in the young girl's face, a face that remained largely unchanged despite what she had just discovered, he couldn't help but to feel as though someone was finally beginning to understand just what was occurring in his life.

"I've worked in the isolation wing before," Michelle continued on, "and there is no way that he could have gotten his hands on the paper to write the note, much less the red ink he used to write it."

"Blood," Lewis suddenly cut in. "He used blood to write the note."

This disturbing fact was something the Lewis felt should illicit an entirely new reaction from the girl, as it had from everyone else that had learned it. For some reason though, her appearance remained unaffected as she stared back at him.

"So this note is the real reason why you went and talked with him, not to help out Dr. Sampson?" The question lingered in the air before Lewis gave a confirming nod. "What did he say?" Michelle further pressed.

Rubbing his eyes and leaving his hand on his face Lewis tried to remember what exactly it was that the man had said. Once a few more heartbeats passed then all the doctor replied with was "He claimed that it was a warning, but that he didn't write it."

Continuing with her cheery presence Michelle took this in and let her mind think it over. An obvious question sprung to mind as she had to ask "You're sure that he wrote it?"

There was a thud as the psychologist's hand fell from its resting spot on his face to land on the oak desk. When the young woman had asked this question then suddenly he felt all of her understanding in the matter to be slipping away. A stark expression came from Lewis' face as he stared back at Michelle, making certain that she understood his next words.

"Yes, I am sure. Every fiber in my being is sure. He wrote that note."

"I see," was the intern's only response as she propped her head onto his desk with her arm.

"No, you don't." An uncomfortable atmosphere set into place following this comment. Stuck in that atmosphere remained the two, until Lewis broke the stillness by passing a third clue across the desk to Michelle. "This was faxed to me yesterday."

Seeing the scrawled words written in the same fashion should have triggered something within Michelle, but if it did then these were things that Lewis remained ignorant of. Only the young woman's eyes moved as she went over the terrifying photo of Dana and the accompanying message. Nothing else about her changed.

Instead of making any kind of helpful gesture, the only thing that came from her was "Oh, did she try to commit suicide?" in a toneless voice.

Bringing this question up caused anger to boil inside of Lewis; even more so then when Michelle had questioned his judgment about Christian being the note's author. "That's not the point!" he yelled as he rose from his chair. Such a force came from this action that the leather chair was almost knocked over, pulling Michelle's attention away from the second note and back onto Lewis. "Christian is still in isolation, Michelle."

By the look on the intern's face then this bit of information apparently had no bearing on her. As Dr. Lewis stood staring at her she merely remained seated, looking back and waiting to see where he was going with everything.

Deeply came a few more breaths of air as Lewis' emotional walls continued to crumble from the stress of everything. Silently Michelle sat staring at him, almost as though she was now judging him for his actions, and it became too much. "How?" came a small word as his emotions overwhelmed him. "How did he manage to fax that to me? How did he manage to do any of the things that he has been doing?" With that Lewis fell back into his chair, no longer knowing what to do.

"Sh," gently came Michelle as she tried to calm him down. Placing a hand on his she merely said, "It's going to be okay Dr. Lewis. I'm sure there's a reason behind all of this."

Slowly lifting his gaze to meet hers, Lewis couldn't help but to feel awkward at her hand's touch as he took in another deep breath. "Maybe there is," he whispered. "Maybe all of this makes sense somehow. But I can't see how. It's just all so hard."

"I know, and I know that this is a great burden on you. But you can't fix it by sitting here and worrying over everything. If you're sure that Christian is behind all of this, then you must get your answers from him, and only him."

"But," Lewis couldn't help to blurt out. "How am I going to get to him? He's locked up in the isolation ward."

"And you're a doctor here at Brookhaven. You have the authority to visit any patient you want." While the statement might have seemed to be an obvious one, it was something that Lewis had never fully considered. Still, traces of doubt began to form in his mind, prompting Michelle to add reassuringly, "It's the only way to get rid of your demons."

She was right. If he was to have any hope of freeing himself of the bonds of terror and returning to the realm that others knew as normal, then he had to do everything in his power to solve the purpose of Christian's notes; including his reason behind sending them.

"Yes, I have to go talk to Christian," he said suddenly and reaffirming. "You're right Michelle. I have to get these answers from him; no matter what."

There was a new determination reflected in the doctor's eyes as he lifted himself out of his chair, grabbing the stack of papers concerning the man, and crossed the room to his office's door. Before exiting, he waited for the young intern who still had her back to him. A smile made its way onto her face, a smile that was quickly becoming part of her normal attire. Grabbing her camera she flashed the middle-aged man that same smile before they exited the room.

Moments after the door softly clicked shut then the office's silence was once more interrupted. Not by people, but by a machine that suddenly whirred to life. Spitting out several sheets of paper, the fax machine quickly performed its task, before just as suddenly going dim and silent once more.

Across the top of these fresh sheets was a golden logo and Officer Simmons' name. These pieces of paper held everything that the police had managed to gather in regards to Cassie before bringing her to Brookhaven. A slight wind snuck its way into the psychologist's office, as though it too was curious about the papers' contents. Among several facts there seemed to be one that stood out, despite it hardly being written in any eye-catching way.

_Blood type: AB negative_


	12. Ch 12

_Chapter Twelve_

Above him came the pallid glow of a fluorescent bulb as he walked down Brookhaven's halls. Further down was another, winking in and out of existence as it tried to stave off its own demise. In its fading moments it cast itself down on Lewis' face, highlighting a contortion of determination and uneasiness.

For the past week the doctor had been focused on his encounter with Christian Leiters, desperately searching for some clue as to who the man was and why he had taken hold of his life. This search had plunged Lewis into the town's history, caused him to call one of the few people he disliked in Silent Hill, all before finally breaking down on a beautiful and innocent young intern. Hindsight made him regret each of these actions, as nothing good had come from them.

Instead of wasting so much of his focus on trying to solve the enigma that was Christian, he should have merely spoken with the mental patient once more. Michelle had been right when she told him that Christian was the only one who would be able to ease his demons, yet his mind hadn't rested on the possibility until hearing her suggestion.

Why his being had been wary of this suggestion was clear. The first time he had spoken to the insane man had left him unconscious and in need of treatment. Following the swift and unprovoked attack, the Brookhaven doctor had felt the need to speak with him yet again, this time turning the tables so that he was the aggressor. Attacking a patient, despite any justification that he might have had, left Dr. Lewis' record and his reputation marred.

If Christian could cause tragedies to befall his life, then why should he be eager to once more be in his presence? Life was already too short, and too dangerous, to throw one's self into the face of danger willingly. Out of fear and a survival instinct he had shoved the possibility of once more speaking with the man to the recesses of his mind. So deeply in fact, that it was a notion that barely held any substance.

Beyond his personal feelings on the matter was the fact that Christian had been returned to his nine by six isolation cell. The man apparently hadn't fulfilled his sentence for the incident involving his roommate, and what had occurred between he and Lewis certainly had extended his stay in the cramped padded room. Since he wasn't Christian's assigned psychologist then it would be difficult for Lewis to ask anything of the man without raising suspicion about his motives.

These concerns had kept him away from the mental patient, leaving Lewis to explore every other avenue in an attempt to gain a shred of understanding about what had become of his life. No matter what he tried, or where he searched, there didn't seem to be any source of information other than the man that had caused the situation in the first place. Seeing no alternative for easing his own fears and angst about the very essence of his life, Lewis carefully wound his way through Brookhaven's hallways towards the isolation ward.

Up ahead he saw the elevator that would take him to the third floor where Christian waited. So far the exodus from his office had been a solitary one, as there wasn't a soul other than his own that roamed the dim hallways. More than a few hours had already faded into memory, lending to the fact that most of Brookhaven's staff should have arrived and already slipped into their bustling routines. The fact that he saw no one struck Lewis as odd, but only for a moment before his mind focused on other matters.

In honest, the fact that no one had crossed paths with Lewis gave him a great sense of relief. Were he to run into anyone then surely they would have stopped him and stolen a fraction of his time away in conversation. Normally he would welcome such an idea, being as personable as any individual could be. On this day however, he welcomed the silence that Brookhaven provided.

To just place himself before Christian without any idea as to what he would say to the man was a grave mistake. Before, Christian had managed to turn the tables quickly in his conversation with the doctor, and that was when Lewis had a clear understanding of what to say. Still, he had gained nothing from either of their previous conversations.

Another thing he had to consider was what excuse he would give to the on-duty nurse that would be sitting on guard just outside of the isolation wing. Lewis' contributions to Brookhaven over the years had earned him recognition and a fair amount of respect from his colleagues. All of that had been quickly undone as a result of attacking Christian. Knowing this, and that the man he sought was also the one he nearly killed, would make it all the more of a challenge in gaining clearance to visit the disturbed patient.

Behind him the elevator's doors closed, and with a tap of a button the sensation of movement came from just beneath his feet. Trapped in the small moving room allowed the first notions of what he was about to do to sink into his mind. Leaving his office and traveling down the familiar hallways had given him a sense of purpose, yet not a sense of reality. It had all passed by him in some dreamy instance, and it wasn't until now that he truly felt committed to the task at hand.

Slowly the elevator approached Lewis' fate. Breathing in and out he considered what words might be helpful in gaining access to Christian's cell. Just as his mind raced through the possibilities he became aware of the perspiration that seeped its way out onto his palms. On instinct he pulled his sweaty hands across the white uniform, drying them in a futile effort to keep a calm appearance.

The condition of his hands would have quickly dropped on his list of concerns were he given a mirror. Across his face were signs of his angst and dread over what he was about to do. Nothing seemed right about his life in the following heartbeat; a heartbeat that quickened as he could feel the elevator slow its approach. Another second passed for the doctor before the movement slowed altogether, followed by a sharp chime and the opening of doors in front of him.

Stepping out of the small elevator, Lewis absorbed the atmosphere that he found on Brookhaven's third floor. With a deep, calming breath he felt suddenly glad that he had taken the guest elevator over the staff one. Brookhaven's third floor, or the S level as some called it, was home to the most disturbed patients that had the misfortune of finding themselves here. Where Lewis now stood was quite a distance away from the hallway of crazed patient rooms, yet even with the space separating him from them he could still make out several screams coming from the direction of the patient wing.

Had he been forced to use the staff elevator, which opened into the patient wing, then he didn't know if his fragile state could have handled it. Already his nerves were pushing his body to its limits, both because of what he had to endure and because of what he was about to put himself through. He couldn't help but to imagine his sanity to be standing on a precipice, where even a slight breeze would cause it to topple into darkness. Still, he knew that if there was to be any salvation then he needed to once again speak with the blonde headed man that had attacked him. After a final reassuring inhale he turned away from the desolate elevator and headed down the hallway.

Only a short walk was between the guest elevator and the nurse's station that marked off the isolation wing. This brief distance gave Lewis little opportunity to finalize anything in his mind. Instead of focusing on what he was about to say, he decided to focus on the how. Whoever was on-duty would be far less likely to admit him into the wing if they saw him shaking and heard his request come wrapped in a nervous tone. Every step that drew him closer resounded in his skull as another moment to ease the terror that trembled in his voice, until he finally found himself standing before a brunette woman.

For a few moments nothing happened, as the thirty-something woman sat staring at the latest edition of the town newspaper. Though she kept an eye on a monitor that displayed everything that occurred in the isolation wing, none of her focus seemed to notice Dr. Lewis standing there. A tick of the clock faded away, and then another, before the psychologist felt the need to gain this woman's attention.

"Excuse me," he said curtly, surprised by how stable his voice sounded. "I need to see Christian Leiters."

Abruptly placing the newspaper down, the nurse sat staring at Lewis. The sudden noise caused by the action startled the doctor, though he worked hard to keep this fact unknown. "What was that?" came her response in a grating voice.

"Christian Leiters," the doctor angrily repeated. "I need to see him for an evaluation."

"Are ya on the schedule, Dr. Lewis?" Before he had a chance to reply the woman plucked a clipboard off of the angular desk and stared at it. Running her finger down the list she began to shake her head before saying "Nope, I don't see your name listed here."

Silently Lewis cursed to himself about this oversight. Many of the people in charge at Brookhaven worked constantly to keep the hospital running like a finely tuned machine. Schedules and paperwork haunted the lives of everyone that were able to call themselves an employee of the hospital. Quickly, he tried to come up with a plausible excuse for stepping around protocol once again.

"There must have been a mix-up in the paperwork," he lied as he took a step away from the station and towards a pair of doors that were clearly marked: _Isolation Wing. _"But I really need to speak to him so that…"

"Hold it, doctor." Cutting short his words, the woman rose from her chair and moved between him and the door. The presence that she held was intimidating for the aging doctor, but his determination to see Christian held out. Unwavering, the two stared at each other until the nurse said "Nobody is getting in there without being on the list."

Inside of his mind the doctor grew frustrated at this turn of events as his heart sank with dismay. Speaking with Christian was already troubling for him, so he didn't need anyone to prolong his misery. Looking into the nurse's large brown eyes he merely wetted his lips, giving his mind the chance to consider every possible response he had. Finally he just said, "I don't have time for this. Christian needs to be evaluated, and it needs to be done quickly so I can get back to work."

Neither these words nor the rough tone that Lewis backed them with proved to sway the nurse in her refusal to let him into the isolation wing. With a cold presence she just stared at him, crossing her arms against her chest as she waited for his next move.

He was so close to Christian, so close to gaining a tangible explanation about what was going on in his life, that it pained him to have this obstacle in his way. Knowing everything that Brookhaven was founded upon left Lewis to understand why the nurse stuck to protocol on this matter, but in this instance it wasn't enough. Wanting to speak with the cause of his torture, or rather needing to, caused the tough veneer that he approached the woman with begin to fade.

Emotions welled up inside of him as he tried to plea with the woman, "Please, I just need to speak with him for a few minutes. Then I'll be on my way." The fragile tone of his voice betrayed what was really going on in his mind, as a shimmering tear threatened at the corner of his eye. As with Michelle, and so many others that had stepped into his life, he didn't want to show the full extent of his pained soul to this woman. Yet, he felt that such a thing was no longer his choice.

"I'm sorry," came the nurse's words in a tone that lacked any sympathy for the doctor's situation. "You know the rules, Dr. Lewis. I can't let anyone into the isolation wing unless I'm told to put them on the list. No exceptions."

Even though it stopped him from his goal, Lewis understood this woman's resolve in adhering to the hospital's rules. With the world falling into anarchy around them then what else could those within sanity's grasp do but cling to the ideals that defined them? A lifetime ago he would have been just as adamant about upholding the few regulations imposed on Brookhaven's staff, but now he felt so pushed away that it was becoming hard to even know what those ideals were.

Blinking away the signs of emotion that had crept into his eyes, he let them fall onto the woman's own hazel eyes. Being denied the chance to speak with Christian left him to feel a new sense of defeat and uselessness as he meekly asked "What am I to do now?"

Responding to this somber question was the first wisp of anything caring to come from the steadfast nurse. "If it really is some mix-up with the paper work then I'm sure it'll be cleared up. You can either wait for that or go talk to one of the administrators."

Though the suggestion was meant to be helpful, it instead was far from being something Lewis could use. Part of his plan to speak with Christian required as few people to know about the discussion as possible. Knowing what had occurred the last time Lewis was in the man's presence would never allow for permission to be given to the psychologist to once more be in the man's presence. Still, he recognized the fact that he had to do something different, or else give up on the matter entirely.

Giving the woman a half-hearted reply the psychologist somehow managed to drag himself away from the nurse, and the pair of doors that she so resolutely guarded. Letting the station and the moment slip behind him with each soft thud of his feet on the tiled flooring, he made his way back down the hallway he had come from. Every step that he took worked in concert with his heart, until the quickened beating slowed to match his footfalls. An almost mesmerizing rhythm formed between these two separate actions. Lewis was ignorant of this however, as he turned the corner and was completely out of the nurse's view.

No longer feeling the woman's piercing gaze on his back, he could think of nothing to do other than lean against the gray wall and fight away the overwhelming emotions that lingered in his mind. If he was to be denied his fate of speaking with Christian once more, then how was he supposed to sort anything out in his life? Already he had exhausted every other course that had presented itself, yet he remained standing there without anything of consequence gained.

There had to be something that he had overlooked. What other explanation could there be? Surely the events of his life were not solely for his own torture. But if this was in fact the case, then what was the point of it all? What was the point of his life when everything seemed to be there merely to cause him unceasing harm without hope for escape? On this thought he collapsed into himself, not quite sure how he was to go on.

Fate was not as cruel as Lewis had begun to believe, and to prove this to Lewis' pitiful soul, it worked to give him the smallest of reprieves. Lost to his own cursing mind he nearly missed its gift, bringing the surly nurse down the hallway before stepping through the patient wing's oppressive double doors.

At first glance Lewis felt the need to rub his eyes, to be certain that she had indeed just left her post and the isolation wing unguarded. This realization brought him to the hallway's corner, where his eyes traced the way the nurse had come. Only moments ago there had been a physical barrier that had prevented Dr. Lewis from speaking with Christian, but that barrier was now gone, leaving nothing but a few steps between the two men.

Whatever had caused the nurse to abruptly leave her station was a concern that didn't cross Lewis' mind. The only thing that he focused on was the fact that he was given a new chance to get at the mental patient. Unaware of what was going on in the world around him, he simply made his way back down the hall and stood before the labeled doors that marked off the isolation wing.

Barely a hesitation came to the Brookhaven psychologist as he felt the need to glance back down the hallway and make certain that nobody would see him. Knowing how resolute the nurse had been in her devotion to keep Lewis out of this part of the hospital made him all the more nervous as he pushed open the door and slipped inside.

Across from him was a series of four doors set into the wall. Narrow rooms were placed behind each of these. So narrow that there were only a few inches between the metal door frames. Inside one of these rooms sat Lewis' target, waiting for the chance to enter the doctor's life once again. Even in this moment, after having come so far, Lewis was unsure of how sincere his desire to be in Christian's presence was. Still, he pressed on.

Reluctantly he moved towards the first door and pressed his face against the small window to see if Christian was contained inside. His heart skipped a beat before he let out a sigh and moved away from the empty cell. This pattern continued onto the next isolation room, and the following one as well. Three times Lewis had dared to gaze into a small enclosed room, knowing that his antagonist may rest on the other side, only to find three empty cells. Only one remained, only one last barrier existed between the doctor and the mental patient, and it was a barrier that Lewis was eager to keep as long as possible.

Every step that Lewis took towards the final door seemed to weigh him down, and every breath of air seemed to leave a pain in his chest. Another second faded away as sweat formed on his brow. Almost stumbling now, he approached the metal door, and let a shiver run down his spine as he stared beyond the small glass window into the cold face of insanity.

Though Lewis was unsure if Christian could see him from beyond the metallic door, he was sure that the patient could hear him. All four of the isolation wing's doors were designed that way, so the patient held within could talk to their assigned psychologist without any risks being taken. It was far from the most ideal of settings for confidentiality to occur, but it was what they had to work with.

Cautiously Lewis wetted his lips as through the small window Christian's face remained blank and unmoving. From this appearance it was impossible to determine what was on the insane man's mind, which only served to send another icy chill down Lewis' spine. Even though he now stood in the presence of his destiny, and had given much time deciding his words in this moment, he still felt painfully unprepared. Going against his emotions he tried to make himself appear as calm as he could, knowing that it was his only chance to set things right.

"Christian, we need to talk," the doctor unwaveringly began. "It's doctor…"

"Ah, Dr. Lewis," abruptly came Christian's voice. "Have you decided to finish your task of sealing yourself to a damning fate?"

The chilling, emotionless tone behind Christian's words made the doctor seize up. Somewhere deep inside screamed out a voice that begged for him to put the whole matter behind, and to simply walk away from this man while he still could. Another part, a far more desperate part, longed to stay in the hope that something of use could be gleaned from the man. As always, desperation won out and forced the doctor to continue on.

Pushing his angst away, or at least as much as he could, Lewis continued on. "The note that you sent me…"

"I didn't send you any note, Dr. Lewis," Christian broke in with. "You know that."

Sweat began to collect on his brow again as Lewis' angst turned into frustration. This was hardly the time for such games. Knowing that the man wouldn't help him at all unless he gave into Christian's whims, the Brookhaven doctor could do nothing but sigh and swallow hard in anticipation.

"Yes, yes I know that. But I still need to know what it means, and who really did send it."

"So, you need my help then?" Something about Christian's question, whether it was the actual words or the manner in which he spoke them, froze Lewis in terror. When no reply came from the doctor the mental patient felt the need to repeat his question, which was followed this time by a small and barely audible yes.

Silence was forced between the two men, leaving Dr. Lewis to seriously question his decision to speak with Christian, and hoping the man would have an answer to give him. Nothing from their previous discussions led the doctor to believe that this man would help to ease any of the angst that had gripped his life, and out of that he nearly left the man to further rot alone in his isolation cell. The only thing that caused him to stay was a voice that whispered in his mind that this was his last chance for peace.

"Christian….I have to know." There was such a helpless quality to Lewis' words as he spoke them, making it very obvious as to just how close he was to breaking down.

"What makes you believe that I have any answers to give you, Dr. Lewis?" Letting the question hang in the air, no answer came to the doctor's mind as he stood there. He just wanted everything to end, and though the mental patient couldn't see the doctor's true state, he sensed well enough as he suddenly spoke "I will help you, but only if you let me out of this box."

Instinctively Lewis' hand moved in response. Beside the isolation door was an electronic reader, and the Brookhaven doctor found himself fishing an ID card from his pocket. Placing the card just above the reader he suddenly stopped, taking in the scene that he had stumbled into and realizing what he was about to do.

Christian was a dangerous man. During their first encounter he had proven this to Dr. Lewis, in addition to several reports that had been filed in regards to earlier transgressions. Because of these things he had been locked away and removed from society as much as possible. Considering the man's history, Lewis found it very hard to go through with things.

Before he could shy away completely from releasing the man something else entered his mind. The nurse that had been assigned to guard the isolation wing may have left her post, but for how long? Whatever it was that had drawn her away certainly wouldn't keep her occupied indefinitely, and it was only a matter of time until she returned. Lewis knew full well what the consequences might be if she were to find him talking to Christian after the previous run-in they had, so for that reason his hand dropped and a soft click was heard as the door to Christian's cell became unlocked.

Placing a hand on the small room's metallic door handle, something drew Lewis' gaze back down the length of the isolation wing. Certain that no one had snuck up on him and that his actions were done so in complete privacy, the Brookhaven doctor pulled the door open and stared at Christian as the two men once more came face to face.

_Cassie just sat there for a moment, looking confused, before she brought her arms up once more and offered her shackled wrists, hoping to now have them be set free._

A small measure of comfort came to Dr. Lewis as he noticed Christian's hands and feet were cuffed together by a chain. With these restraints then he felt Christian would at least be prevented from attacking him outright, and it would be impossible for him to do so without alerting someone as to what was going on.

"Thank you, Dr. Lewis. It is good to see you again." An eerie smile creased its way across the blonde haired man's face as he took a cautious step forwards, placing a foot just outside of his cell's doorway.

"Now, will you please tell me who sent that note?"

"Lead the way." Echoing across the small hallway were Christian's metal shackles as he gestured with his hand. This noise only helped to add to the chilling aura of the moment.

At first Lewis was unsure of what exactly Christian meant by this gesture. The only part about their agreement that he recalled was the fact that Christian wanted out of his cell. Already the mental patient was testing the limits of the doctor's generosity by suggesting that they leave the isolation wing altogether, and Lewis couldn't help but to feel used.

Still, Christian's suggestion did have some merit. The whole reason for letting the man out of his cell was to help minimize the chances of anything happening to Lewis as a result of sneaking in and talking to the disturbed patient. Were someone to come in and see them standing there now would not bring fewer accusations upon the doctor, but in fact would cause them to be far worse. Seeing no choice but to continue their conversation in a less conspicuous environment, Lewis warily grabbed Christian by the arm and led the way out of the isolation wing.

Without a nurse present to watch him remove Christian from his cell, Lewis believed himself to be totally free of guilt in this matter. The entire time something had been overlooked, and it was that exact thing that could cause him more trouble than anything else he had encountered. Watching on as the two men slipped out of the wing sat a camera in the ceiling's corner, recording everything, in addition to a silent alarm that had been tripped the moment Lewis' ID card had opened Christian's cell.

Holding his breath, Lewis stepped out of the wing and anxiously stared at the nurse's station. Relief swept over him as he saw it to still be empty, and that no one else appeared to be roaming the nearby hallway.

Making his way down the hallway with Christian walking alongside of him, Dr. Lewis couldn't help but to cringe with each step. Every time the mental patient moved, the metal shackles fastened to his wrists and ankles rattled with a grating sound that Brookhaven's vacant hallways echoed with. If they were going to make it to a safe place to talk then the job of actually reaching such a place was going to be that much harder thanks to Christian's chains.

Pushing aside his frustration Lewis began to consider where they should go. On his way to the isolation ward it had never been his intention that the insane man should leave his cell; much less roam the hospital's halls in search for a secluded area to speak in. Now that he was stuck the man then the doctor began to rack his mind for every possible room that might be available.

The rest of the third floor was instantly crossed off. Other than the isolation wing where he had found Christian all that the top floor had to offer was the S level patient wing. Even if there was a place vacant amongst the S rooms, Lewis still didn't want to dare looking. Having to deal with one disturbed patient was enough of a burden on his sanity without those locked in the S wing to have a chance at him as well.

Brookhaven's ground floor didn't give him much assurance either. Most of the rooms on the hospital's first floor were for use by visitors and the administrative staff. While a handful of patient rooms were located here, they were hardly ever empty. Besides, if there was any chance that he might run into someone then it would be on Brookhaven's bottom floor, which was something he was trying to avoid at all costs.

Rounding the hallway's corner only one place was left in his mind; the second floor. Other then a few locker rooms and storage closets then the whole middle floor was dedicated to patient rooms. Scratching his head he tried to recall the whiteboard from earlier in the morning, hanging in the reception area that listed which patient was in which room. He tried to remember what room on the second floor was currently vacant, as he could distinctly remember that one of them was indeed absent of any patients.

Before his mind could rest on which room was the empty one, Lewis startled himself as he ran into the third floor elevator. Not since he had first begun his residency at Brookhaven had he stumbled into the hospital's walls. He had always remained very focused in his work, even at some of his worst times. For him to literally bump into something seized his mind, and he realized just how grave the situation consuming his life had become.

Tapping a button the doctor stood and waited for the elevator to return, trying his best to put the whole matter of his lost focus out of his mind. There were other things that needed his attention at the moment, more important things. One of those things was standing right beside him, gazing off with a blank face that only masked the true horror of what lay beneath. Looking at Christian again sent a shiver of revulsion down his spine as a soft chime let him know that the elevator had reached him.

When the doors slid open, he was about to take a step forward, before something caught his attention. Brookhaven's elevators were small, hardly the size that many of the staff felt they should be. At most it would be a tight fit for three people. There might not have been quite that many people about to step on it, but with someone as dangerous as Christian then any enclosed space could easily turn into a coffin.

"What's wrong?" the mental patient coldly asked as the doctor stood there in hesitation.

Something about the man's tone made Lewis even more uneasy about the whole situation he was about to place himself in. Knowing what the man had done to him before left a sick feeling in the doctor's stomach, and once again his conscious rose to question why he was helping this man at all. Letting the argument subside he forced himself onto the small elevator, with Christian a step behind.

Creaking with age, the elevator doors closed and shut the two men inside. As he reached for the '2' button, Lewis realized that his hands were trembling. Having his one-time attacker practically breathing down his neck unnerved the Brookhaven doctor like nothing had before. Standing there on very little sleep didn't help either, as the only images that flooded his mind were those of bleeding patient bodies and chilling clues.

Taking a deep breath Lewis tried with all his strength to ease the quakes that ravaged his body. Experience had taught him that men like Christian were predators, and predators could sense fear. If he wanted the mental patient to help him out then Lewis knew he had to try and create the most benign environment that he could. Only in that environment would the two be able to talk on level ground, and something be achieved.

Once Lewis reasoned this in his mind, his hand became still and he again felt at peace. Quickly he tapped the elevator button, knowing that another wave of panic could attack at any moment. Even with a layer of calm wrapped around him the doctor still felt a twinge of angst as he sensed the elevator move beneath his feet.

The time spent between floors could have been measured with a handful of heartbeats, but they were heartbeats that Lewis was painfully aware of. Every second spent next to the mental patient stretched on into eternity. Dr. Lewis knew that the few moments stuck waiting to reach the second floor should have been spent on figuring out how he was going to get the man to the vacant room unnoticed, yet instead all he could do was focus on how close he was to a man that had caused his soul such torment.

Reaching their destined floor Lewis gave such a loud exhale that the grinding doors barely drowned it. Opening onto Brookhaven's second story the doctor pushed himself into the awaiting hallway. As he took in a breath of the dank air something suddenly came to his mind, forcing him back into the cramped elevator.

In the rush of excitement over being given the chance to escape the close proximity he had been forced to share with Christian, Lewis made a costly mistake. With the mental patient in tow he had to be extra cautious in maneuvering around the old hospital. Were someone to spot them he had no excuse that could explain why he had removed the man from isolation and brought him here.

Cautiously he returned to the fluorescent lit hallway, darting his eyes in search as he did so. The visitor elevator was tucked away in a corner, letting the doctor enter the floor in near seclusion. While this gave him few places to search, it also gave Christian more cover to covertly attack him and escape. Unwilling to have his back to the man, Lewis simply sidestepped towards the hallway's corner.

Both the spacious hallway and the cramped elevator were now within his field of vision, but instead of focusing on one or the other he kept his eyes jumping back and forth. No sign of danger came from either sight, yet something was gnawing deep in his stomach that kept him alert. Dr. Lewis couldn't quite put his finger on what this feeling meant, but it was something he felt needed to be paid attention to nonetheless.

Christian seemed to be aware of the situation that the two were now in. Remaining in the elevator he merely stood in silence and awaited a signal from the Brookhaven doctor that everything was clear. By gaining his freedom from the small isolation cell he was closer to complete freedom then he had been in a while. Knowing the cost of that freedom, and how delicate it was, allowed a strong sense of patience to take hold of him and wait out the doctor's next move.

To Lewis' amazement not a soul was found roaming Brookhaven's second floor. Several office's had been placed on this floor, along with the locker rooms for both sexes. Closing in on the day's lunch hour should have made the hallway a far busier place then what it appeared. Instead of dwelling further on why he hadn't run into a soul since releasing Christian he decided to take advantage of the small luck he had been given and move as quickly as he could to the vacant room.

Pulling his file folder close to his chest he returned to the decaying elevator and stared into the cold eyes of a madman. "I think we are safe to go," he said to the shackled patient.

"You think?" The tone behind Christian's question was a far harsher one then Lewis had been prepared for.

When Lewis' eyes met with Christian's then something sparked deep within him. Nearly the entire time he had known the man Lewis had been afraid. In this instance though that fear had been pushed aside, and his normally dormant temper flared. "Look, don't start to with me," Lewis said as he jammed a finger into the man's chest. "I've done you a favor by letting you out of your isolation cell, a favor that could cost me dearly. If you don't shut up and follow then you can always go right back." Fierce determination reflected in the doctor's eyes as well as the emotional strain he had been under.

In response Christian's mouth crooked in a half smile, obviously amused by the fragile emotional state that the doctor found himself in. Unable to see any reason to push further he merely held his shackled hands up in mock surrender and said "Whenever you're ready doctor."

One last moment was spent as Lewis stared coldly at the man in his off-color patient jumper. Contempt for him and for the situation he had placed Lewis in emanated from the doctor, before both men stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor.

Whatever thoughts were now roaming in the insane man's head was a mystery as his face returned to a blank stare that he seemed comfortable with. Dr. Lewis' mind was far easier to pick, as the rapid movement of his eyes conveyed his continued paranoid sense. So far that sense seemed unjustified as Brookhaven remained eerily vacant.

Once during their journey Lewis stopped Christian, feeling the need to peer down the hallway leading to the twin locker rooms before continuing on. Even this action seemed unnecessary as the only thing that was revealed to the nervous doctor was a bright yellow pale and dirtied mop. With only a few more feet between him and his destination then Lewis could sense relaxation begin to embrace his being, though even now it was far too soon to drop his guard.

Passing through the double doors placed across from a staircase Lewis exhaled his relief as they were now in the patient wing of the second floor. Room M3 was located halfway down the hall, and even now it had remained abandoned for some reason. Maybe for a change the residents of Silent Hill were beginning to solve their own problems, and the flow of insanity was finally being curbed in the sleepy resort town. Whatever the cause, he was just happy that there was a place where he could speak to Christian alone. Focusing on this, he began to drag the mental patient towards their destination.

Suddenly his focus was ripped away yet again as a noise came from just ahead. Out of instinct Lewis pushed Christian behind him, though being nearly a head taller than the doctor wouldn't allow him to be hidden much. When the door to the floor's exam room was pushed open Lewis' panic level sharply rose, causing him to throw himself against Christian in an attempt to shield both of them from view.

A dark scowl made its way across the patient's face, but Lewis didn't even notice. All he noticed was the red hair of a woman who appeared to be going over some medical files. Joyce remained oblivious to everything outside of those typed words as she headed further down the hallway towards the staff elevator. Something within Lewis longed to speak with his friend, hoping that somehow she could save him from Christian and the nightmare he had forced upon Lewis' life.

Before he could make a move towards the woman then he saw a new figure emerge from the exam room. The tightly clinging uniform and short velvet black hair caused an instant recognition for Lewis. Unlike the other woman, Michelle stopped and seemed to stare over her shoulder in Lewis' direction. The older doctor seized for a moment, wondering what the young girl would do next, only to see her turn back towards Dr. Hunt and follow down the hall.

Pressing against the gray concrete wall Lewis breathed in deeply. That had been a close call; too close of a call. Tiny drops of sweat had collected on his brow and as he forced himself to wipe these off he just shifted his gaze back to his companion, who looked to be far from happy about being shoved. Lewis made no attempt to apologize for his actions, but instead merely gestured with his hand that the way was now clear.

Less than a full minute passed as the doctor approached the empty room. That time stretched out into eternity as he kept looking behind him, certain that at any moment someone would sneak up on him and discover his violation of conduct. No one appeared though, and Lewis now found himself standing before the large double doors with M3 painted off to the side.

Seemingly an eternity had passed since he had left his office a short hour ago, yet here he stood. It was almost ironic that M3 had been chosen for the next step in his destiny. This room had been where he had first met with Christian, and where the serious doubts regarding his life and his character had emerged from. Yes, fate did seem to have a sense of irony, but that didn't matter to Dr. Lewis. None of it did. All that mattered was a murdered young girl and a note that had caused an unrealized terror take hold of his life. With that thought he opened the door, and stepped into fate's awaiting arms.


End file.
